-- 

•  •• 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


GIFT 

From  the  Library  of 

Henry  Goldman,   Ph.D. 

1886-1972 


AND   THE 


DIARY  OF  A  SUPERFLUOUS  MAN 


BY 

IVAN  GERGITEYITCH  TURGENIEFF 


TRANSLATED  FROM  THB  RUSSIAN 
BY 


GERSOJSTI 


NEW  YORK 

FUXK    &    WAGNALLS,    PUBLISHERS 

10  AND  12  DEY  STREET 

1884 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1884,  by 

FUNK  &  WAGNALLS, 
In  the  Office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress  at  Washington,  D. 


Annex 


MUMU. 


INTRODUCTORY. 


"  I  FINISHED  my  course  of  studies,"  says  Ivan  Sergeye- 
vitch  Turgenieff,*  "  in  the  faculty  of  Philology  at  the 
University  of  St.  Petersburg  in  1837.  In  the  spring  of 
1838  I  went  to  Berlin  to  finish  my  education.  1  was 
nineteen  years  old  at  that  time  ;  I  had  been  thinking  for 
several  years  of  taking  such  a  course.  I  was  convinced 
that  in  Russia  one  could  acquire  only  some  preparatory 
information,  but  that  the  resources  of  a  perfect  educa- 
tion were  in  foreign  lands.  Among  all  the  professors  at 
the  University  of  St.  Petersburg  at  that  time,  there  was 
not  one  who  could  shake  my  resolution.  They,  how- 
ever, had  the  same  convictions  that  I  had.  Even  the 
Ministers  of  State  entertained  the  same  opinion  ;  Count 
Uvaroff,  who  was  Chancellor  of  State  at  that  time,  was 
wont  to  send  young  men  to  finish  their  education  in 
German  universities  at  his  own  expense.  I  studied  at 
Berlin  for  about  two  years.  The  subjects  of  my  studies 
were  philosophy,  ancient  languages,  and  history  ;  I  stud- 
ied Hegel  under  Professor  Berder  with  special  zeal. 
In  order  to  show  how  deficient  the  instruction  was  at 
the  higher  places  of  learning  in  St.  Petersburg  at  that 
time,  I  will  state  the  following  fact  :  "While  I  attended 
at  Berlin  the  lectures  of  Professor  Zumpt  on  Latin 
antiquities,  and  those  of  Professor  Bock  on  the  Greek  lit- 

*In  the  preface  to  his  works  published  by  Sulaeff  Bros.,  Moscow, 
1869,  vol.  i. 


6  INTRODUCTORY. 

erature,  I  had  to  gnaw  at  my  Latin  and  Greek  grammars 
at  home,  so  imperfect  was  my  knowledge  of  the  same. 
And  I  had  not  been  one  of  the  worst  students  at  home. 

"  The  pilgrimage  of  Russian  youths,  of  my  class,  to 
foreign  countries  reminded  one  of  the  pilgrimage  which 
the  leaders  of  the  ancient  Slavs  made  to  the  Yariags 
across  the  sea.  '  Our  land  (I  speak  of  the  moral  and 
mental  state  of  the  people  of  my  country)  is  large  and 
productive,  but  there  is  no  order  therein.'  I  may  say 
of  myself,  that  I  felt  very  keenly  all  the  disadvantages 
of  an  alienation  from  my  native  clime,  of  the  tearing 
asunder  of  all  the  ties  and  connections  by  which  I  was 
bound  to  that  existence  in  which  I  had  grown  up.  .  .  . 
But  I  had  no  choice.  That  life,  that  society,  that  sphere 
— if  such  an  expression  may  be  used — to  which  I  be- 
longed, the  sphere  of  serf -holding  landowners,  contained 
nothing  that  could  hold  me  back.  On  the  contrary, 
almost  everything  that  I  saw  around  me  aroused  within 
me  a  sense  of  annoyance,  dissatisfaction,  contempt.  1 
could  not  long  remain  undecided.  It  was  necessary 
either  to  be  resigned  and  to  walk  along  with  the  rest  in 
the  trodden  paths,  or  to  turn  away  at  once  and  to  push 
aside  everything  and  everybody,  even  at  the  risk  of  los- 
ing much  that  was  near  and  dear  to  my  heart.  I  chose 
the  latter  alternative.  I  threw  myself  head  downward 
into  the  '  German  sea,'*  which  was  to  cleanse  and  re- 
generate me.  When  I  emerged  from  its  turbulent 
waves  I  found  myself  to  be  a  '  Westerner,  'f  and  such  I 
always  remained. 

"  1  do  not  think  of  making  reflections  on  those  of  my 

*  A  favorite  Russian  expression  for  German  education  and  culture. 
— H.  G. 

f  A  nickname  for  the  adherents  of  Western  civilization  in  contradis- 
tinction to  the  Panslavonians. — H.  G. 


INTRODUCTORY.  7 

contemporaries  who  have  arrived  at  the  same  liberty,  at 
the  same  knowledge  as  that  for  which  I  strove,  by  other 
and  less  schismatic  means.  My  desire  is  only  to  state 
that  I  did  not  see  any  other  way  before  ine.  I  could  not 
breathe  the  same  air,  I  could  not  remain  in  the  same  en- 
vironment with  that  which  I  abhorred  ;  I  probably  lacked 
the  courage,  the  required  strength  and  tension  of  char- 
acter for  that.  It  was  necessary  for  me  to  withdraw  at 
a  distance  from  my  enemy  in  order  to  be  able  to  charge 
the  more  forcibly  against  him  from  that  distance.  In 
my  eyes  that  enemy  had  a  defined  form  and  a  name — it 
was  '  the  right  of  serf-holding. '  Under  this  inscription 
I  collected  and  concentrated  all  that  against  which  I  re- 
solved to  fight  to  the  last,  with  which  I  swore  never  to 
reconcile  myself.  This  was  my  '  Hannibal's  oath,'  and 
I  was  not  the  only  one  who  made  it  at  that  time.  I 
went  to  the  West  in  order  to  be  enabled  to  fulfil  it  in  a 
better  manner.  I  do  not  believe,  however,  that  my 
proclivities  as  a  '  Westerner'  have  deprived  me  of  all 
sympathy  with  Russian  life,  of  all  understanding  of 
what  Russia  is  and  what  she  requires.  ..." 

This  extract  from  Turgenieff's  writing  about  the  sym- 
pathies and  antipathies  which  animated  him,  and  about 
the  principles  upon  which  his  works  were  based,  gives 
the  best  clew  to  an  understanding  of  his  labor.  It  is 
obvious  that  the  principal  figures  he  endeavored  to  bring 
forward  on  his  canvas  were  the  lowest  and  the  highest 
of  Russian  society — the  serfs  and  the  nobles.  The  mid- 
dle class,  indeed,  played  but  an  insignificant  part  in  Rus- 
sian life.  Turgenieff  regarded  the  serf  as  a  strong  and 
useful  laborer,  endowed  with  an  instinctive  sense  of 
morality,  but  living  isolated  from  the  world,  and  unable 
to  speak  a  word  in  his  own  behalf.  The  classes  of 
nobility,  on  the  other  hand,  he  considered  as  useless  con- 


8  INTRODUCTORY. 

Burners  of  the  peasant's  labor,  to  which  they  were  en- 
titled by  the  chance  of  birth  ;  as  demoralized  by  affluence 
and  laziness  ;  as  demoralizing  all  that  came  into  contact 
with  them.  He  therefore  heartily  despised  their  bane- 
ful "  sphere,"  although  he  was  born  and  brought  up  in  it. 
According  to  this  view,  I  have  endeavored  to  select 
from  his  works,  for  translation  into  English,  two 
sketches  which  represent  the  essential  thoughts  of  the 
renowned  author.  "  Mumu"  and  "  The  Diary  of  a 
Superfluous  Man"  seemed  the  best  adapted  for  this  pur- 
pose. In  the  former,  Garassim  personifies  the  Russian 
serf  in  his  natural  state.  The  group  of  the  household 
servants  of  "her  Ladyship,"  into  which  that  gigantic 
figure  is  brought,  shows  what  becomes  of  him  when  he 
is  drawn  into  the  environment  of  his  master.  "  The 
Diary  of  a  Superfluous  Man"  shows  the  ultimate  fate  of 
the  noble  classes,  which  are  presented  by  the  figures  that 
cluster  around  the  hero,  from  the  sparkling  Prince  in 
service  of  the  government  down  to  the  man  who  writes 
his  "Diary."  The  readers  of  TurgeniefFs  works  will 
find  that  all  his  novels  and  sketches  are  only  variations  of 
these  two  themes.  The  value  of  his  other  works,  how- 
ever, cannot  be  diminished  by  a  knowledge  of  the  prin- 
cipal figures  which  he  brings  forward,  for  his  keen  psy- 
chological penetration  and  his  masterly  touch  upon  the 
strings  of  the  human  heart  will  always  awaken  sym- 
pathy, no  matter  what  the  theme  of  his  writing  may  be. 
By  a  skilful  grouping  of  the  two  elements  he  had  in 
his  hands,  Turgenieff  always  succeeded  in  propounding 
new  psychological  problems  and  in  exhibiting  new  phases 
of  human  life.  His  works  are  poems  on  the  human 
soul ;  his  method  is  a  most  felicitous  one.  He  does 
not  hold  the  interest  of  the  reader  by  keeping  him  in 
suspense,  by  taking  advantage  of  his  curiosity.  By  a 


INTRODUCTORY. 

few  bold  strokes  lie  sketches  the  outlines  of  the  figure 
that  he  brings  forward,  of  the  picture  he  is  about  to 
produce  so  plainly,  that  the  reader  knows  forthwith 
what  the  storj  is  going  to  be.  Nevertheless  that 
reader  is  constrained  to  follow  the  artist  as  the  lights 
and  shades  of  the  picture  are  worked  out,  as  the 
minutest  details  in  coloring  and  finishing  are  being 
done.  TurgeniefE  is  therefore  always  interesting,  always 
instructive. 

Curiously  enough,  after  the  emancipation  of  the  Rus- 
sian serf  (by  an  ukase  of  Alexander  II.  of  February  ]  9th, 
1861),  Turgenieff  had  not  much  more  to  say  about  that 
subject  of  his  sympathy.  He  made  no  further  efforts  in 
behalf  of  the  peasant,  advocating  means  for  his  spiritual 
elevation  and  education,  or  even  for  the  amelioration  of 
his  condition.  With  such  things  he  had  nothing  to  do  ; 
he  was  an  artist  and  not  a  reformer  ;  his  power  consisted 
in  the  perception  of  things  that  were,  and  not  in  conject- 
uring that  which  should  be.  In  the  very  year  of  the 
emancipation  of  the  serf  in  Russia,  Turgenieff  wrote  his 
"  Fathers  and  Sons,"  and  brought  Bazaroff  the  Nihilist 
upon  the  stage — "  a  figure  that  had  already  existed  in 
the  dim  apprehension"  (I  use  his  own  words)  of  the 
people.  It  is  perhaps  not  generally  known  that  Tur- 
genieff  was  the  author  of  the  term  "  Nihilist."  He  be- 
stowed this  title  on  the  hero  of  "  Fathers  and  Sous"  in 
a  rather  equivocal  sense,  as  he  did  not  know  himself 
whether  he  was  in  sympathy  with  that  character  or  not. 
But  lie  represented  him  as  he  perceived  him  ;  he  saw 
him  taking  his  place  in  the  social  history  of  Russia,  and 
could  not  leave  that  spot  vacant  on  the  canvas.  Thus 
he  invented  the  term  Nihilist  as  a  name  -for  that  which 
he  saw  in  existence,  but  the  nature  of  which  he  did  not 
well  understand.  Turgenieff  himself  says  on  this  sub- 


10  INTRODUCTORY. 

ject ':*  "  I  have  never  tried  to  '  create  images,'  if  I  had 
no  given  point  to  start  from,  no  idea  or  living  subject 
with  which  I  could  gradually  connect  and  mix  up  other 
elements.  As  I  do  not  possess  a  great  deal  of  the  free 
inventive  power,  I  always  needed  some  ground  upon 
which  I  could  firmly  stand."  It  seems  that  he  did  not 
understand  the  Nihilist,  nor  had  he  any  great  sympathy 
for  him  to  the  last. 

In  conclusion  I  will  quote  from  the  "  History  of  the 
Russian  Literature,  by.  K.  Petroff"  (St.  Petersburg, 
1871),  a  paragraph  in  which  the  significance  of  Turge- 
nieff  in  that  literature  is  aptly  sketched  : 

"  Tnrgenieff  may  be  called  the  principal  representa- 
tive and  poet  of  that  morale  ancf  that  philosophy  which 
predominated  in  our  educated  society  for  the  last  score 
of  years.  He  quickly  perceived  the  new  requirements 
and  the  new  ideas  that  were  introduced  into  our  social 
atmosphere,  and  in  his  works  he  invariably  pointed,  as 
clearly  as  circumstances  allowed,  to  the  question  at  issue 
which  awaited  its  turn,  and  which  had  begun  to  trouble 
society  as  a  dim  apprehension.  To  this  perception, 
to  this  ability  of  the  author  to  respond  immedi- 
ately to  every  honorable  thought  and  honest '  sentiment 
which  had  just  begun  to  claim  the  recognition  of  the 
better  classes  of  society,  must  be  ascribed  the  success 
which  has  always  attended  Turgenieffs  works.  Cer- 
tainly, talent  was  required  for  that,  too  ;  but  talent  was 
not  the  principal  thing.  Turgenieff's  talent  was  not  of 
that  Titanic  description  which  by  the  sole  power  of 
poetical  elan  impresses  you  and  takes  hold  of  you  and 
draws  you  by  sheer  force  to  sympathize  with  a  certain 
manifestation  or  idea  ;  it  is  not  a  clamorous,  powerful 

•On  the  subject  of  "  Fathers  and  Sons,"  by  Ivan  Turgenieff,  vol. 
i.  of  his  works,  published  by  Suiueff  Bros.,  of  Moscow. 


INTRODUCTORY.  11 

appeal,  but  a  soft  poetical  thoughtfulness  which  consti- 
tutes the  principal  trait  of  his  talent.  Added  to  this, 
there  is  the  inexpressible  charm  of  poetical  description 
in  his  narratives  ;  the  delicacy  of  touch  and  depth  of 
psychological  perception  in  the  figures  and  positions  he 
describes. ' ' 

I  hope  that  these  few  remarks  will  contribute  toward 
a  better  appreciation  of  the  works  and  talent  of  my  re- 
nowned countryman,  whose  demise  the  literary  world 
deplores  since  September  3d,  and  that  my  effort  in  trans- 
lating the  two  sketches  from  the  original  (most  of  Tur- 
genieff's  works,  I  am  sorry  to  see,  were  translated  into 
English  from  French  or  German  translations,  and  have 
thereby  lost  a  great  deal  in  pith,  pathos,  and  significance), 
which  are  offered  in  this  volume,  will  be  acceptable  to 
the  English -reading  public.  HENRY  GEKSONI. 

NEW  YOBK,  October  26,  1883. 


MUMU. 


IN  one  of  the  unfrequented  streets  of  Moscow  there 
stood  a  gray  house  adorned  with  white  pillars,  an  entre- 
sol, and  a  balcony  which  was  somewhat  caved  in  by  the 
effect  of  time.  An  aged  widow  lady,  surrounded  by  a 
large  retinue  of  servants  and  hangers-on,  lived  in  that 
house.  Her  sons  were  in  service  at  St.  Petersburg  ;  her 
daughters  were  married  out  of  the  house.  She  seldom 
made  or  accepted  calls.  In  retirement  she  passed  the 
last  years  of  her  narrow  and  tiresome  life,  whose  bleak, 
unenjoyable  day  had  passed,  and  whose  eve  was  dark 
and  gloomy. 

The  most  remarkable  individual  of  that  lady's  house- 
hold was  a  menial  servant,  Garassim  by  name.  He  was 
six  feet  and  five  inches  high,  his  constitution  was  pro- 
portionally developed,  and  he  was  a  deaf-mute  from  his 
birth.  He  was  the  property  of  the  lady,  as  all  her  other 
servants  were — her  serf.  She  took  him  out  of  her  vil- 
lage, where  he  had  lived  in  a  lonesome  cot,  isolated  from 
his  mates,  and  where  he  had  been  considered  as  one  of 
the  best  serfs  on  socage  work.  Endowed  with  hercu- 
lean strength,  he  could  perform  the  labor  of  four  ordi- 
nary men  ;  his  work  melted  away,  as  it  were,  under  liis 
hands. 

It  was  pleasant  to  behold  him  performing  his  task. 
"When  he  was  guiding  the  plough  in  the  field,  pressing 
on  it  with  his  large  hands,  he  appeared  to  tear  open  the 


14  MUMU. 

yielding  breast  of  the  earth  by  his  own  efforts,  without  * 
the  aid  of  the  small  horse  that  walked  in  front.  When 
in  harvest  time  he  wielded  the  scythe,  it  seemed  as 
though  a  forest  of  young  birch  trees  would  as  easily 
give  way  to  his  mighty  sweep  as  did  the  yellow  grain 
stalks.  When  he  was  thrashing  the  harvest,  the  heavy 
chain  played  easily  and  steadily  under  his  muscular 
arms,  and  the  colt-staff  went  up  and  down  in  regular 
strokes,  as  if  impelled  by  its  own  good  will.  His  con- 
stant silence  imparted  a  solemn  earnestness  to  his  work. 

Garassim  was  an  excellent  serf  indeed.  Were  it  not 
for  his  unfortunate  defect,  every  girl  in  the  village 
would  but  too  willingly  have  lent  an  ear  to  his  wooing. 
But  the  lady  took  him  to  Moscow.  There  he  was 
donned  in  boots  and  in  a  coat  in  the  summer,  and  in 
a  sheepskin  cloak  in  the  winter  time  ;  a  broom  and  a 
shovel  were  put  into  his  hands,  and  he  was  constituted 
the  menial  servant  of  the  house. 

Garassim  greatly  disliked  his  new  position.  From 
childhood  he  was  used  to  village  life  and  to  work  in  the 
field.  Isolated  from  communion  with  his  mates  by  his 
natural  defect,  he  had  grown  up  mute  and  strong,  like  an 
isolated  tree  in  a  thrifty  prairie.  Being  translated  into 
the  city,  he  could  not  well  understand  what  was  going 
on  with  and  around  him — he  was  bewildered  and  shy. 
Thus  feels  a  young  steer  which  is  taken  from  the  fra- 
grant prairie  where  the  succulent  grass  grew  up  to  its  very 
head,  and  is  put  into  a  railroad  car  ;  his  huge  body  is 
enveloped  in  clouds  of  steam,  smoke,  and  sparks  of  h're, 
and  he  is  swiftly  carried  along  with  whistling,  rattling, 
and  thundering  noises.  Where  to  ?  Heaven  knows  ! 

His  new  occupation  appeared  to  Garassim  like  a 
child's  play  after  the  hard  work  to  which  he  had  been 
used.  In  a  half  hour  he  was  through  with  his  work  for 


MUMTT.  15 

the  whole  day.  He  would  then  either  stand  in  the  yard 
staring  at  every  one  that  passed  by  him  as  though  he  in- 
quired for  a  solution  of  the  problem  he  could  not  solve, 
or  he  would  fling  his  broom  and  shovel  aside  and  lie 
down  on  his  breast  in  some  remote  corner  of  the  yard 
for  hours  and  hours  together,  like  a  captured  wild  beast 
in  its  cage. 

But  a  human  being  can  feecome  used  to  everything  ; 
Garassim  became  accustomed  to  city  life.  His  duty  was 
to  keep  the  courtyard  clean,  to  hitch  up  an  old  nag  and 
bring  a  barrel  of  water  twice  every  day,  to  split  wood 
and  carry  it  into  the  rooms,  and  to  keep  watch  against 
strange  intruders.  These  functions  he  fulfilled  regularly 
and  accurately.  There  was  not  a  splinter  of  wood  or  an 
unclean  spot  in  the  yard,  and  there  was  never  a  want  of 
fresh  water  or  split  wood  in  the  house.  If  it  happened 
in  the  rainy  season  that  the  wheels  of  his  water-barrel 
stuck  in  the  mud,  one  lift  with  his  mighty  shoulder  was 
sufficient  not  only  to  start  it  on  the  road,  but  even  to 
push  on  the  old  horse  that  drew  it. 

When  he  took  to  splitting  wood,  the  axe  chinked  like 
a  piece  of  glass  with  his  sure  and  regular  strokes,  and 
chips  or  logs  of  required  size  fell  in  rapid  succession 
under  it. 

As  to  his  work  as  a  watchman,  he  once  caught  two 
thieves  and  smote  their  heads  one  against  the  other  so 

o 

mightily,  that  at  the  police  station  where  they  were 
afterward  taken,  the  authorities  were  unable  to  distin- 
guish their  features.  The  report  of  this  feat  soon  spread 
in  the  neighborhood,  and  since  then  not  only  thieves 
but  even  honest  individuals  were  afraid  to  intrude  into 
the  house  when  his  colossal  figure  was  seen  at  the  gate. 

"With  the  other  servants  of  the  household  Garassim 
lived  not  on  intimate,  but  on  brief  tenns,  so  to  say  ;  he 


16  MUMU. 

regarded  them  as — belonging  to  the  house.  They  would 
show  him  by  signs  and  gestures  what  was  required  of 
him,  and  he  would  understand  them  and  promptly  fulfil 
the  orders.  But  he  just  as  strictly  guarded  his  own 
rights.  Heaven  help  the  person  who  would  presume  to 
occupy  his  seat  at  the  table  ! 

He  was  of  a  strict  and  serious  disposition  withal,  and 
loved  order  in  everything.  -••  Even  cocks  would  not  dare 
to  fight  in  his  presence  ;  if  they  did,  woe  unto  them  ! 
"With  one  adroit  sweep  he  would  catch  them  one  in  each 
hand,  wheel  them  around  by  their  feet  in  the  air  several 
times,  and  throw  them  apart  each  into  a  different  corner. 
There  were  also  geese  in  the  yard.  But  a  goose,  as  the 
world  well  knows,  is  a  dignified  and  thoughtful  fowl. 
Garassim  respected  the  geese  and  took  good  care  of 
them  ;  he  was  himself  very  much  like  a  wild  gander  of 
the  steppe. 

He  was  lodged  in  a  small  room  over  the  kitchen,  which 
he  appointed  according  to  his  own  taste  and  by  his  own 
skill.  He  contrived  for  himself  a  bed  of  heavy  oak 
boards  supported  by  four  stfong  blocks  of  wood,  which 
could  hold  five  tons'  weight  without  bending  under  it. 
It  was  a  couch  for  a  giant.  Under  it  stood  his  huge 
box.  In  the  corner  by  the  window  he  placed  a  small 
table  of  equally  durable  manufacture,  and  by  the  table 
there  was  a  stool  on  three  legs,  of  which  he  seemed  to 
be  particularly  proud.  When  he  was  in  a  playful  mood 
he  would  pick  up  that  stool  and  throw  it  down  again  with 
a  broad  grin  ;  thus  he  was  pleased  with  its  indestructi- 
bility. His  room  he  kept  locked  with  a  padlock  having 
the  shape  of  a  peasant's  wheat-cake,  only  it  was  black. 
Garassim  always  carried  the  key  behind  his  girdle  ;  he 
did  not  like  it  that  other  people  should  pry  into  his  pri- 
vate apartment. 


MUMU.  17 

A  year  passed  after  Garassim  was  brought  to  Moscow, 
when  he  met  with  a  sort  of  adventure. 

The  old  lady,  his  proprietress,  observed  the  ancient 
aristocratic  manners  very  accurately  :  she  consequently 
kept  a  large  number  of  servants  and  retainers  about  her 
person.  There  were  in  her  household  laundresses,  seam- 
stresses, a  carpenter,  a  tailor,  a  turfman,  who  fulfilled 
the  duties  of  a  veterinary  surgeon  and  of  a  consulting 
physician  for  the  servants.  There  were  also  a  footman 
and  grooms,  a  shoemaker,  a  house-physician  for  her 
ladyship  exclusively,  and  a  number  of  other  domestics 
of  various  descriptions.  The  shoemaker,  Kapiton 
Klimoff  by  name,  was  a  hopeless  drunkard.  He  con- 
sidered himself,  however,  as  an  exceptional  being,  whose 
merits  were  not  sufficiently  appreciated,  and  who,  by 
virtue  of  his  culture,  deserved  to  occupy  a  position  in  the 
residence,  and  not  lie  rotting  away  in  a  retired  nest  at 
Moscow.  If  he  drank  a  little  too  much,  he  asserted 
with  affectation,  striking  his  breast,  he  did  so  out  of 
grief. 

Now  it  happened  that  her  ladyship  once  spoke  about 
this  very  individual  to  the  steward  of  her  household, 
whose  name  was  Gavrilo  Andreyitch,  and  who,  to  judge 
by  his  yellowish,  twinkling  little  eyes,  and  by  his  nose, 
which  was  formed  like  the  bill  of  a  duck,  was  just 
created  for  the  position  he  occupied.  Her  ladyship  ex- 
pressed regret  at  the  degenerate  morals  of  the  cobbler, 
who  had  been  picked  up  drunk  in  the  street  the  day  pre- 
vious. 

"  AVhat  do  you  say,  Gavrilo,"  she  said  suddenly,  as 
though  a  new  inspiration  had  come  upon  her  ;  "  would 
it  not  be  advisable  to  get  him  married  ?  Don't  you 
think  that  this  would  cause  him  to  mend  his  ways  ?" 

"  Why  not  get  him  married,  your  ladyship?     This 


18  MUMU. 

could  be  done,  your  ladyship.  It  might  be  very  well  to 
do  it,  your  ladyship,*'  rejoined  the  obsequious  steward. 

"•But  who  would  take  him  ?"  asked  the  lady. 

"  Certainly,  your  ladyship.  .  .  .  And  yet,  if  it  so 
please  your  ladyship.  .  .  .  He  can  •  be  good  for  some- 
thing anyhow.  In  a  dozen,  so  to  speak,  he  may  count 
for  one,  your  ladyship." 

"  I  believe  that  he  likes  Tatiana,"  the  lady  said. 

Gavrilo  was  going  to  make  a  remark,  but  he  pressed 
his  lips  together  and  said  nothing. 

"Yes,"  said  the  lady  resolutely,  taking  a  pinch  of 
snuff  with  apparent  relish  ;  "  yes,  let  Tatiana  be  wooed 
for  him.  Do  you  hear  me  ?" 

"  All  right,  your  ladyship,"  said  Gavrilo,  and  bowed 
himself  out  of  her  presence,  she  having  waved  her  hand 
as  a  sign  of  dismissal. 

Having  returned  to  his  apartment,  which  consisted  of 
one  room  in  the  rear  aisle  of  the  building  and  was 
crammed  with  iron-braced  boxes,  Gavrilo  ordered  his  wife 
out  and  sat  down  by  the  window  in  a  thoughtful  mood. 
The  unexpected  order  of  his  lady  had  apparently  put  him 
in  jeopardy.  At  last  he  shook  himself  up  and  ordered 
the  cobbler  to  be  called.  Kapiton  Klimoff  soon  ap- 
peared before  him. 

Before  we  continue  telling  what  happened  in  Gav- 
rilo's  room,  we  deem  it  necessary  to  say  a  few  words 
about  Tatiana,  whom  Kapiton  was  to  marry,  and  why 
the  lady's  order  had  so  troubled  the  steward. 

Tatiana  was  employed  in  her  ladyship's  laundry  ;  her 
duty  was  to  attend  to  the  finest  linen,  as  she  had  been 
expressly  educated  for  her  occupation.  She  was  a 
woman  about  twenty-eight  years  old,  of  small  propor- 
tions, and  very  thin.  She  was  of  fair  complexion,  and 
had  a  mole  on  her  left  cheek.  Such  a  mark  on  the  left 


MUMU. 


cheek  is  considered  in  Russia  as  an  evil  omen;  it  prog- 
nosticates an  unfortunate  life  ;  Tatiana,  indeed,  could 
not  boast  of  good  luck.  Since  her  childhood  she  was 
kept  among  the  underlings  ;  she  worked  for  two,  and 
never  had  any  kindness  shown  her.  She  was  poorly- 
clad,  and  received  a  very  small  stipend.  Relatives  she 
had  none  to  speak  of.  One  of  her  uncles  had  once  oc- 
cupied the  position  of  butler  at  the  lordly  mansion,  but 
he  had  been  sent  back  to  the  village  as  unlit  for  that 
post.  Her  other  uncles  had  never  been  around  the  per- 
sons of  their  noble  proprietors.  Oiice  upon  a  time 
Tatiana  was  considered  as  a  beautiful  woman,  but  she 
had  lost  her  beauty  somehow.  She  was  of  a  very  quiet 
or  rather  very  shy  disposition  ;  very  indifferent  to  her- 
self and  greatly  afraid  of  others.  Her  only  thought  was 
to  get  through  with  her  work  in  time.  She  never  talked 
much,  and  trembled  at  the  mere  mention  of  her  lady- 
ship, although  the  latter  had  hardly  ever  spoken  a  word 
to  her. 

When  Garassirn  was  brought  from  the  village,  Tatiana 
nearly  fainted  for  fright  at  the  sight  of  his  colossal  figure. 
She  always  tried  to  avoid  him,  and  when  she  had  to 
pass  him  in  the  courtyard  she  would  half  close  her  eyes 
and  swiftly  run  by  him.  He  at  first  hardly  noticed  her, 
but  afterward  he  smiled  at  her  when  he  met  her. 
Later  on  he  began  even  to  look  after  her,  and  at  last  he 
never  took  off  his  eyes  from  her.  He  conceived  a  lik- 
ing for  her  ;  whether  it  was  for  her  mild  features,  or  for 
her  shy  and  timid  demeanor,  who  can  tell  ? 

Once  Tatiana  walked  through  the  courtyard  with  her 
arm  raised  up  cautiously,  carrying  a  freshly  starched 
blouse  of  her  ladyship  on  the  tips  of  her  fingers.  She 
suddenly  felt  her  other  arm  in  a  tight  grasp.  She 
turned  around  ;  behind  her  was  Garassim.  She  almost 


20  MCMU. 

fainted  for  fright.  With  a  broad  grin  on  his  face,  and 
uttering  a  whining  sound,  he  presented  her  with  a 
honey-cake,  which  was  shaped  like  a  cock  with  gilt  tail 
and  wings.  She  wanted  to  refuse  it,  but  he  forced  it 
into  her  hand  and  walked  off,  turning  his  head  after  her 
several  times  and  uttering  his  peculiar  whine,  which  was 
probably  intended  for  some  very  graceful  compliment. 

Since  that  time  the  poor  girl  had  no  rest  from  him  ; 
whithersoever  she  went,  he  was  by  her.  He  often  met 
her  on  the  way,  smiling,  whining,  and  nodding  to  her. 
He  would  often  pull  out  of  his  bosom  a  piece  of  gay 
ribbon  and  force  it  into  her  hand.  At  times  he  would 
walk  ahead,  sweeping  the  path  before  her  with  his  broom. 
The  poor  girl  did  not  know  what  to  do  and  how  to  deport 
herself.  Very  soon  all  around  the  house  knew  about 
the  tricks  of  the  deaf-mute  menial  servant  ;  smiles, 
hints,  and  derisive  insinuations  were  poured  upon  the 
girl.  But  no  one  dared  to  make  sport  of  Garassim  ;  he 
liked  no  fun  ;  in  his  presence  they  would  not  dare  even 
to  upbraid  Tatiana. 

Thus,  whether  she  liked  it  or  not,  the  girl  found  her- 
self standing  under  his  protection.  Like  all  the  deaf- 
mute  persons,  Garassim  was  very  shrewd,  and  he  under- 
stood it  very  well  when  he  or  his  lady  love  was  laughed 
at.  Once  at  the  dinner  table  the  forewoman  began 
throwing  out  remarks  against  Tatiana,  and  so  annoyed 
her  that  she  nearly  cried.  Garassim  noticed  this.  He 
suddenly  arose  from  his  seat,  stretched  his  sinewy  arm 
across  the  table,  and  putting  his  hand  flat  on  the  fore- 
woman's head  he  bowed  it  down  to  the  table  and  be- 
stowed such  a  threatening  look  on  her  that  she  nearly 
lost  her  senses.  All  the  people  at  the  table  were  terror- 
stricken. 

"  Oh,   the  devil  !  The  very  demon  of  the  woods  !" 


MUMTJ.  21 

exclaimed  the  forewoman,  and  ran  out  of  the  room. 
But  he  calmly  resumed  his  seat  and  continued  his  meal 
as  though  nothing  had  happened. 

At  another  time  he  saw  Kapiton,  the  same  fellow  for 
whom  Tatiana  was  now  to  be  wooed,  talking  foppishly 
to  the  girl.  He  motioned  him  by  with  his  finger,  took 
hold  of  his  arm,  and  led  him  out  into  the  barn  ;  hold- 
ing his  man  with  one  hand,  he  picked  up  a  pole  with  the 
other,  and  waved  it  gently  in  the  cobbler's  face,  and 
then  he  let  him  go.  After  that  time  no  one  dared  to 
upbraid  or  to  make  approaches  to  Tatiana,  and,  what  is 
more,  Garassim  had  no  cause  to  regret  his  rudeness.  It 
is  true,  the  forewoman  fainted  in  the  girls'  room  after 
she  had  run  away  from  the  table,  and  she  made  such  a 
fuss  and  with  so  much  artifice  that  the  rude  deportment 
of  the  menial  servant  was  on  that  very  day  reported  to 
her  ladyship.  But  the  latter  only  laughed  at  the  occur- 
rence, and  to  the  great  annoyance  of  the  forewoman,  she 
made  her  exliibit  how  the  mute  giant  had  laid  his  hand  on 
her  head  and  pressed  it  down  to  the  table.  The  next 
day  she  sent  him  a  gift  of  a  silver  ruble. 

Indeed,  her  ladyship  was  kindly  disposed  toward  the 
strong  and  faithful  Garassim.  He,  on  the  other  hand, 
was  somewhat  afraid  of  her,  but  he  trusted  in  her  kind 
disposition.  To  all  appearances,  he  prepared  himself  to 
beg  her  permission  that  he  should  marry  Tatiana.  He 
probably  waited  only  until  he  should  receive  his  new 
frock,  which  had  been  promised  him  by  the  steward,  in 
ortler  to  appear  before  her  ladyship  in  respectable  attire. 
Unfortunately,  she  had  conceived  the  notion  to  marry 
the  girl  to  Kapiton. 

It  will  now  be  understood  why  the  steward  was  so 
troubled  about  the  order  of  her  ladyship.  "  The  lady," 
so  his  thoughts  ran  while  he  sat  at  the  window,  "  is  cer- 


22  MUMIT. 

tainly  well  disposed  toward  Garassim."  (He  knew 
that,  and  for  this  reason  he  always  treated  him  with 
deference.)  "But  he  does  not  possess  the  power  of 
speech,  anyhow.  Should  I  not  inform  her  ladyship  that 
he  courts  the  girl  ?  But,  truly,  what  kind  of  a  husband 
would  he  make  ?  On  the  other  hand,  should  he,  the 
demon — God  forgive  my  sins  ! — become  aware  that 
Tatiana  is  to  be  wedded  to  Kapiton,  he  will  smash  up 
everything  in  the  house.  No  explanation  can  be  had 
with  him,  indeed.  There  are  no  means  to  bring  this 
devil — the  Lord  forgive  me  ! — to  reason.  Surely — 
His  reflections  were  interrupted  by  the  appearance  of 
Kapiton. 

The  cobbler  entered  the  room  quietly  and  placed  him- 
self near  the  door,  with  his  arms  folded  on  his  back.  He 
leaned  against  a  protrusion  in  the  wall,  and  foppishly  put 
his  right  foot  crossways  before  the  left  with  an  air  of 
ease  and  self-assurance  ;  he  then  gave  a  shake  with  his 
head  as  though  he  wished  to  express  :  "  Here  I  am  ; 
what  do  you  want  of  me  ?"  but  he  said  nothing. 

Gavrilo  looked  at  him  and  began  drumming  with  his 
fingers  on  the  window-sill.  Kapiton  winked  with  his 
little  eyes,  but  he  did  not  look  down  ;  he  smiled  slightly 
and  passed  his  hand  over  his  whitening,  dishevelled  hair. 
His  manner  expressed,  "  Well,  I  am  I,  and  what  are  you 
going  to  do  about  it  ?  What  are  you  looking  at  now  ?" 

"  A  nice  one,  indeed  !"  murmured  Gavrilo,  and 
made  a  pause.  "  A  nice  fellow  you  are  ;  there  is  no 
gainsaying  it." 

Kapiton  only  shrugged  his  limp  shoulders  with  an  im- 
pertinent look  which  expressed,  "  You  are  a  nicer  one,  I 
dare  say  ;"  but  he  said  nothing. 

"  Just  look  at  yourself,"  Gavrilo  continued  reproach- 
fully. "  See,  what  do  you  look  like— eh  ?" 


MUML*.  23 

Kapiton  leisurely  passed  his  eyes  over  his  tattered  and 
dirty  coat,  over  his  patched  and  torn  pantaloons  ;  he 
dwelt  for  a  few  seconds  with  attention  on  his  torn  boots, 
especially  on  the  one  which  he  had  so  foppishly  put 
forward,  and  then  raising  his  eyes  and  looking  his  inter- 
locutor squarely  in  the  face,  he  said,  "  Well  ?  what  of 
it,  sir?" 

"  What  of  it  ?"  echoed  Gavrilo.  "  What  of  it  ? 
You  ask  yet,  What  of  it  ?  Why,  you  look  like  a  devil 
—Heaven  forgive  my  sins  ! — Yes,  that  is  what  you  look 
like  !" 

Kapiton  half  closed  his  eyes  as  though  he  wished  to 
say,  "  Fire  away,  old  fellow  ;  that  is  your  business." 

"  You  have  been  drank  again  !"  resumed  Gavrilo — 
"  drunk  again,  were  you  not — eh  ?  Well,  answer  me." 

"  By  reason  of  feeble  health,  I  have  indeed  yielded 
to  the  desire  for  spirituous  drink,"  Kapiton  rejoined 
with  affectation. 

"  By  reason  of  feeble  health,  forsooth!"  echoed  the 
other  one.  "  Have  you  not  been  chastised  enough  ?  .  .  . 
There  !  .  .  .  And  he  boasts  of  having  been  educated  at 
St.  Petersburg  !  Much  have  you  learned  at  the  resi- 
dence !  You  don't  deserve  the  bread  you  eat  ;  that  is 
all  !" 

"  As  to  the  last  point  you  have  mentioned,  Gavrilo 
Matveyitch,"  the  eloquent  shoemaker  rejoined,  "there 
is  only  One  to  judge  me,  and  that  is  the  Lord  Almighty 
Himself  ;  no  one  beside  Him  should  presume  to  judge 
me.  He  alone  knows  whether  I  deserve  the  bread  that 
I  eat,  or  not ;  He  alone  knows  what  kind  of  a  man  I 
am.  What  concerns  my  drunkenness  again,  this  is 
surely  not  my  fault,  but  that  of  a  certain  friend  who  has 
beguiled  me,  put  notions  into  my  head,  and  then  left 
me — and  I — " 


24  MUMU. 

"  And  you  remained  drunk  in  the  street  like  a  foolish 
gosling,"  Gavrilo  interrupted  ;  and  continued  :  "  Oh, 
you  are  a  wayward,  demoralized  man  !  But  this  is  not 
to  the  purpose.  The  thing  is  this  :  her  ladyship— yes, 
it  is  the  desire  of  her  ladyship  that  you  should  marry. 
Do  you  hear  me  ?  She  is  of  opinion  that,  being  mar- 
ried, you  will  mend  your  ways.  Do  you  understand 
me?" 

"  Why  should  I  not  understand,  Gavrilo  Matveyitch  ?" 

"  Well  then  !  My  opinion  would  be  to  do  with  you 
something  else,  to  hold  you  more  strictly — but  this  is 
her  ladyship's  business.  Well,  are  you  satisfied  ?" 

Kapiton  posed  foppishly. 

"  Married  life  is  certainly  a  good  thing  for  a  man, 
Gavrilo  Matveyitch,"  he  said.  "  On  my  part,  I  shall 
give  my  consent  to  the  affair  with  my  sincerest  good 
will,  with  the  greatest  of  pleasure." 

"  That  man  speaks  with  great  accuracy,"  admiringly 
thought  Gavrilo,  Then  he  said  aloud,  "  Very  well. 
But  they  have  selected  a  bride  for  you  who  is  not  very 
attractive." 

"  May  I  ask  who  that  is,  if  my  inquisitiveness  be  par- 
donable ?" 

"  Tatiana,"  answered  the  steward. 

"  Tatiana  !"  echoed  the  cobbler,  making  a  step  for- 
ward, and  sharply  looking  at  his  interlocutor. 

"  Why  do  you  get  excited  now  ?  Don't  you  like 
her?" 

"  Why  should  I  not  like  her,  Gavrilo  Matveyitch  ? 
She  is  a  diligent,  orderly,  and  quiet  girl.  But  you  know 
it  yourself,  Gavrilo  Matveyitch,  that  demon,  that  savage 
beast,  is  after  her." 

"  I  know  that,  friend  ;  I  know  all  about  it,"  said  the 
steward  with  an  air  of  great  annoyance,  "  but — " 


Mr  AIL*.  25 

"  But,  for  mercy  sake  !"  interrupted  Kapiton,  "  lie 
will  kill  me  !  By  Heaven,  lie  will  kill  me  !  He  will 
just  crush  me  like  a  fly  !  He  has  a  fist — you  know  it 
yourself  what  kind  of  a  fist  he  has.  His  arm  is  simply 
like  that  of  Minin  and  Pozharsky  !*  He  is  deaf  at 
that  ;  he  strikes,  and  does  not  hear  how  the  blows  fall  ; 
he  wields  his  fist  insensibly,  like  one  in  a  dream.  There 
is  no  means  to  call  him.to  order.  Why  !  you  know  it 
yourself,  Gavrilo  Matveyitch  ;  he  is  deaf  and  mute,  and 
as  devoid  of  sense  as  a  spot  on  the  wall.  He  is  a  beast, 
a  statue,  worse  than  a  statue — an  asp  tree.  Why  should 
I  be  made  to  suffer  at  his  liands  ?  Of  course,  I  do  not 
care  for  myself  ;  I  am  worn  out  and  used  up  ;  I  am 
sleeked  down  like  a  tar-pot.  But  I  am  a  man,  Gavrilo 
Matveyitch,  and  not  a  worthless  pot,  after  all." 

"  I  know,  I  know  all  about  it,"  said  Gavrilo  ;  "  stop 
your  eloquence. ' ' 

"Gracious  Heaven!"  exclaimed  the  animated  cob- 
bler, "  when  is  the  unfortunate  event  to  transpire  ? 
Luckless,  downtrodden  being  that  I  am  !  Just  think 
of  my  fate  !  In  my  young  years  I  was  beaten  by  my 
master,  the  German  ;  in  the  best  years  of  my  life  my 
brothers  treated  me  with  blows  ;  now,  behold  what  I  am 
to  have  for  all  my  services  in  my  ripe  age  !" 

"Stop  your  litany!"  called  Gavrilo,  "dilapidated 
soul  that  you  are  !' ' 

"  What  do  I  make  a  fuss  about,   Gavrilo  Matvey- 

*  Kosma  Minin  was  an  energetic  patriot  of  Nizhny  Novogorod,  who 
succeeded  by  his  strong  appeals  in  arousing  his  countrymen  to  free 
themselves  from  the  Polish  and  Swedish  pretenders  to  the  Russian 
crown  in  the  year  1612.  Through  his  interference  the  Prince  Dmi- 
triy  Mikhaylovitch  Pozharsky  was  appointed  leader  of  the  Russian 
army,  and  defeated  the  Poles,  who  had  besieged  Moscow.  In  the  tra- 
dition  of  the  common  people  these  two  names  figure  as  those  of  somo 
powerful  giants. --H.  G. 


26  MUMU. 

itch  ?"  said  Kapiton.  "  Indeed,  I  am  not  afraid  of  blows. 
If  a  gentleman  should  chastise  me  within  the  four  walls" 
(referring  to  things  which  had  often  happened  between 
him  and  his  interlocutor)  "  and  meet  me  with  due  regard 
before  other  people,  I  would  not  care  ;  I  would  be  con- 
sidered a  man  after  all.  But — 

"  Get  out  of  here  !"  cried  Gavrilo. 

Kapiton  stalked  out  of  the  room. 

^'Suppose  the  deaf-mute  fellow  were  not  here,"  the 
steward  called  after  the  cobbler,  "  would  you  then  be 
satisfied  ?" 

"  I  would  grant  my  consent  with  the  greatest  pleas- 
ure," answered  the  cobbler,  whose  affectation  would  not 
desert  him  even  in  a  moment  of  despair. 

Gavrilo  paced  up  and  down  in  his  room  for  some 
time,  and  then  he  ordered  Tatiana  to  be  called.  The 
girl  appeared.  She  entered  the  room  noiselessly,  and 
stood  at  the  door. 

"  What  is  your  pleasure,  Gavrilo  Matveyitch  ?"  she 
asked,  timidly. 

"Well,  little  Tatiana,"  the  steward  said,  looking  in- 
tently into  her  face,  "  do  you  wish  to  be  married  ?  Her 
ladyship  has  found  a  husband  for  you." 

"  All  right,  Gavrilo  Matveyitch,"  said  the  girl  ;  and, 
after  a  brief  pause,  she  asked  timidly,  "  and  who  may 
that  be,  if  you  please  ?" 

"  Kapitori  Klimoff,  the  shoemaker,"  was  the  answer. 

"All  right,  sir." 

"It  is  true,  he  is  a  wayward  sort  of  a  fellow,"  the 
steward  continued,  "  but  her  ladyship  relies  on  you  to 
exert  a  good  influence  over  him." 

"All  right,  sir." 

1  There  is   one  difficulty,    however ;   the   deaf-mute 
fellow,  Garassim,  courts  you.     By  what  means  have  you 


MUMU.  27 

charmed  that  beast,  I  wonder  ?  He  will  kill  you  if  he 
becomes  aware  that  you  are  to  be  wedded  to  another 
one,  for  he  is  not  better  than  a  beast." 

"He  will  surely  kill  me,  Gavrilo  Matveyitch,"  the 
girl  said  composedly  and  resignedly. 

"  He  will,  eh  ?  "Will  he  ?  This  remains  to  be  seen. 
What  do  you  say  ?  He  will  kill  you  ?  Just  consider 
it  ;  has  he  any  right  to  kill  you  ?" 

"  I  don't  know,  Gavrilo  Matveyitch,  whether  he  has 
a  right  or  not." 

"Have  you  ever — well,  have  you  promised  him  any- 
thing ?"  asked  the  steward. 

"  If  you  please,  Gavrilo  Matveyitch  ?"  asked  the  girl, 
not  having  understood  Gavrilo's  question. 

"  You  are  indeed  an  innocent  soul  !  It  is  all  right 
now.  Go,  now,  my  little  Tatiaua.  I  see,  you  are  a 
dutiful,  resigned,  and  submissive  person." 

Tatiana  left  the  room,  and  leaned  on  the  railing  as  she 
descended  the  stairs. 

"  It  may  yet  happen,"  meditated  the  steward,  "  that 
by  to-morrow  her  ladyship  will  forget  all  about  the  wed- 
ding. To  what  purpose,  then,  have  I  taken  so  much 
pains  ?  That  piece  of  mischief,  Garassim — we  will  put 
him  down,  if  anything  happens.  We  shall  place  him 
under  police  arrest,  if  need  be.  Yslinya  Theodore vna  !" 
he  called  to  his  wife,  "  put  up  the  tea-kettle,  my  most 
respected  one,  if  you  please. ' ' 

Tatiana  kept  herself  in  the  laundry  the  whole  day. 
At  first  she  cried  a  little,  but  she  soon  wiped  away  her 
tears  and  betook  herself  to  her  work. 

Ivapiton  went  to  the  gin  shop,  where  he  remained  until 
late  in  the  evening.  He  met  there  a  friend,  a  sinister- 
looking*individual,  to  whom  he  narrated  the  history  of 
his  life.  He  had  been  at  the  residence  in  the  service  of 


28  MUMTJ. 

a  gentleman  with  whom  he  could  do  as  he  pleased  ;  he 
had  been  a  friend  of  order  and  correct  deportment  ;  at 
last  he  committed  a  little  error,  he  took  to  drinking  and  be- 
came somewhat  careless  ;  he  had  been  a  great  favorite  with 
ladies  of  all  classes,  who  had  been  simply  running  after 
him.  The  sinister-looking  individual  only  said,  "  Yes," 
to  everything  that  Kapiton  said.  But  when  the  latter  at 
last  declared  that  for  a  certain  reason  he  should  be  com- 
pelled to  lay  hand  on  himself  the  very  next  day,  his  friend 
arose  from  his  seat,  muttering  something  to  the  effect  that 
it  was  time  to  go  to  bed,  and  went  off  unceremoniously. 

The  hope  of  the  steward,  in  the  mean  time,  that  her 
ladyship  might  forget  about  the  wedding,  was  not  real- 
ized. She  was  so  interested  in  the  affair  that  she  spoke 
about  it  even  at  night  to  her  maid-in-waiting,  who  was 
kept  in  the  house  for  the  sole  purpose  of  keeping  her 
company  when  she  could  not  sleep,  and  who,  like  a 
night  watchman,  slept  during  the  day.  As  soon  as  Gav- 
rilo  appeared  before  her  the  next  morning  with  his  regu- 
lar report,  she  asked  him,  "  Well,  what  about  our  wed- 
ding affair  ?  Will  it  go  ?"  He,  of  course,  answered 
that  it  would  go  excellently  ;  that  Kapiton  would  have 
the  honor  to  appear  before  her  that  day,  with  his  hum- 
blest regards,  begging  her  permission  that  he  should 
marry  Tatiana. 

As  soon  as  she  dismissed  him,  Gavrilo  called  together 
a  council  in  the  large  servants'  hall,  for  the  affair,  in- 
deed, required  mature  reflection.  Poor  Tatiana,  of 
course,  acquiesced  to  all  the  arrangements  that  were 
made  about  her.  But  Kapiton  was  somewhat  fractious  ; 
he  declared  then  and  there,  in  the  presence  of  the 
whole  retinue  of  her  ladyship,  that  he  had  only  one  head, 
and  not  two  or  three,  and  that  he  would  not  ha*re  that 
precious  and  only  head  of  his  broken. 


MUMU.  S9 

Garassim  looked  with  apprehension  at  all  that  was 
going  on,  and  kept  himself  around  the  girls'  apartments 
the  whole  day.  He  conjectured  that  something  very 
unfortunate  for  him  was  taking  place. 

There  was  in  the  company  a  superannuated  waiter, 
whom  they  called  Uncle  Khvost,  and  to  whom  every  one 
respectfully  submitted  his  opinion.  He  said  :  "  Well, 
well,  well,  well  !"  with  a  shake  of  his  wise  head.  This 
was  all  that  they  had  ever  heard  from  him. 

It  was  suggested  that  Ivapiton  should  be  locked  up  in 
the  small  closet  where  the  water-filter  was  stationed,  jnst 
for  security's  sake  ;  and  this  was  done.  Of  course, 
force  could  be  used  against  Garassim  ;  but  this  was  a 
precarious  means  ;  a  noise  might  ensue,  and  her  lady- 
ship, God  forbid  !  might  be  frightened. 

Thus  they  cogitated  and  reflected,  and  determined  at 
last  upon  a  course  of  action.  It  had  been  observed  that 
Garassim  hated  drunkards.  Sitting  at  the  gate,  he 
would  always  turn  away  with  disgust  when  an  inebriate 
passed  by  him  with  a  tottering,  staggering  gait,  and  with 
his  hat  turned  the  wrong  way.  It  was  resolved,  there- 
fore, upon  the  strength  of  these  observations,  that 
Tatiana  should  feign  drunkenness  before  him.  The  poor 
girl  was  averse  to  playing  such  a  trick,  but  she  consented 
at  last.  She  knew,  well  that  there  was  no  other  means 
to  rid  herself  of  his  imposition.  Kapiton  was  let  out  of 
his  confinement,  for  he  was  to  take  a  principal  part  in 
the  transaction  after  all.  All  the  members  of  the  house- 
hold stationed  themselves  behind  the  window  blinds  to 
observe  what  would  happen.  The  trick  succeeded,  how- 
ever, in  the  best  possible  manner. 

Garassim  was  sitting  at*thc  gate  thoughtfully  reclining 
his  head  on  his  hand,  which  was  supported  by  the  elbow 
on  his  knee,  and  scratching  the  ground  with  his  shovel, 


30  MUMU. 

which  he  held  in  the  other  hand.  All  the  eyes  of  the 
servants  were  intent  upon  him  from  their  concealed 
places  behind  the  blinds  and  in  the  corners.  Tatiana 
passed  by  him  with  a  staggering  gait,  feigning  to  be 
drunk.  As  soon  as  he  noticed  her  he  began  smiling, 
nodding,  and  uttering  his  peculiar  friendly  whine.  He 
then  looked  intently  at  her,  jumped  up  from  his  seat, 
and  flung  his  shovel  aside.  He  approached  her,  bowed 
down  his  colossal  figure,  and  put  his  face  close  unto  her 
face. 

The  poor  girl  was  frightened  out  of  her  wits  ;  she 
trembled  in  all  her  limbs,  and  could  hardly  keep  on  her 
feet.  This  heightened  the  semblance  of  drunkenness. 
He  caught  her  by  the  arm,  dragged  her  through  the 
courtyard  into  the  servants'  hall,  and  threw  her  into  the 
arms  of  Kapiton.  She  was  half  dead  with  fright.  He 
looked  at  her  again  with  a  bitter  smile,  waved  his  hand 
at  her,  and  walked  off  with  a  heavy  step. 

He  kept  himself  in  his  room  for  the  next  two  days. 
The  groom  Antipka  observed  him  through  a  crack  in  the 
door  ;  he  saw  him  sitting  on  his  bed  with  his  head  rest- 
ing in  both  hands,  and  quietly  shaking  himself  and  whin- 
ing, as  the  wagon-drivers  do  when  they  sing  their  pa- 
thetic songs  on  the  road.  The  curious  groom  felt  very 
uneasy  at  the  sight,  and  quickly  withdrew  from  behind 
the  doer. 

"When  Garassim  at  last  appeared  again  in  the  yard,  no 
special  change  could  be  noticed  in  him  ;  he  only  looked 
somewhat  gloomier  than  usual,  and  took  no  notice,  either 
of  Tatiana  or  of  Kapiton.  The  couple  presented  them- 
selves to  her  ladyship  with  geese  under  their  arms.  She 
graciously  gave  her  sanction  to  their  marriage,  and  they 
were  wedded  a  week  afterward.  On  the  day  of  their 
wedding  Garassim  did  not  change  his  deportment  ;  only 


MUMU.  31 

he  returned  from  the  river  without  water  ;  his  barrel  had 
been  damaged  on  the  road.  In  the  evening  he  brushed 
his  horse  so  violently  that  he  nearly  grated  off  her  skin. 

All  this  happened  in  the  spring  time. 

Another  year  passed  away,  during  which  Kapiton 
became  so  completely  depraved  that  he  was  of  no  earthly 
use  in  the  world.  Her  ladyship  therefore  ordered  him, 
together  with  his  wife,  to  be  sent  off  to  one  of  her  most 
distant  villages  by  a  convoy.  On  the  day  of  his  depart- 
ure he  was  at  first  quite  courageous,  and  asserted  that  he 
would  be  able  to  get  along,  even  if  he  were  sent  to  that 
distant  part  of  the  earth  where  the  washerwomen  hang 
their  clothes  to  dry  on  the  rim  of  heaven.  But  when 
the  convoy  began  making  preparations  to  start,  he  be- 
came crestfallen,  and  complained  of  being  sent  away  to 
waste  his  life  among  uncultured  people.  At  last  he 
completely  broke  down,  and  was  so  distracted  that  he 
could  not  even  put  his  cap  on  his  head.  Some  charitable 
individual  put  it  on  for  him,  and  slapped  it  down  lightly 
with  the  palm  of  his  hand. 

"When  the  convoy  was  ready  to  start,  the  drivers  hold- 
ing the  reins  in  their  hands  and  waiting  only  for  the 
word  of  command,  "  With  God  !"  to  move  on,  Garassim 
came  out  of  his  room  and  presented  Tatiana  with  a  red 
cotton  handkerchief  which  he  had  bought  for  her  a  year 
before.  The  poor  woman,  who  had  encountered  so  many 
hardships  resignedly  and  without  a  murmur,  could  not 
maintain  her  equanimity  at  the  manifestation  of  such 
disinterested  kindness.  Tears  began  rolling  down  her 
cheeks,  and  before  climbing  up  to  take  her  seat  in  the 
wagon,  she  threw  her  tiny  arms  around  the  shoulders  of 
the  mute  giant  and  exchanged  hearty  kisses  with  him. 
He  accompanied  her  ;  his  intention  was  probably  to 
walk  along  by  her  wagon  as  far  as  the  city  limits  ;  but 


32  MUMU. 

on  reaching  the  Krimskj  crossing,  he  waved  his  hand  to 
her,  and  returned  home  along  the  river  coast. 

It  was  growing  dark.  Garassim  walked  slowly  along, 
looking  into  the  water.  He  suddenly  noticed  something 
struggling  about  in  the  mud  right  near  the  bank.  lie 
stooped  to  see  what  it  was,  and  found  a  small  dog.  The 
creature  was  wet,  muddy,  and  trembling  ;  it  was  too  young 
and  too  feeble  to  work  itself  out  of  the  sticky  clay  up  to  the 
bank  by  all  its  desperate  efforts.  Garassim  took  it  up, 
and  putting  it  into  his  bosom  he  hurried  off  homeward. 

Arrived  in  his  room,  he  put  the  cur  on  his  bed  and 
covered  it  with  his  coat.  He  went  down  to  the  barn  for 
hay  and  made  a  bed  for  it.  Then  he  went  to  the  kitchen 
and  procured  a  cup  of  milk.  He  carefully  uncovered 
the  dog  and  placed  the  milk  before  it,  but  the  poor 
creature  was  yet  too  feeble  to  help  itself.  It  was  only 
about  three  weeks  old,  and  one  of  its  eyes  was  not  quite 
open  yet  ;  it  did  nothing  but  tremble  and  wink  with  its 
half-opened  eye.  Garassim  cautiously  took  hold  of  its 
head  and  dipped  its  month  into  the  milk  ;  it  began  to 
drink  with  a  relish,  licking  and  puffing  about  in  a  very 
droll  manner.  Garassim  observed  it  with  intense  pleas- 
ure, and  burst  out  laughing.  The  whole  evening  he 
passed  with  the  cur,  until  at  last  he  fell  asleep  by  it  with 
a  joyous  smile  upon  his  broad  countenance. 

No  mother  takes  so  many  pains  with  her  child  as 
Garassim  took  with  the  cur  he  had  saved  from  drown- 
ing. At  first  she  was  ill-looking,  timid,  and  weak,  but 
she  soon  began  to  develop  in  her  proportions  and  to 
straighten  out  in  her  bearing.  She  became  playful, 
arid,  thanks  to  the  incessant  care  of  her  master,  she  de- 
veloped into  a  very  fair  spaniel,  with  a  white  fur.  spotted 
yellowish  on  the  back,  with  long  ears,  a  bushy  tail,  and 
very  expressive,  clear  eyes. 


MUMU.  33 

I 

She  was  very  devoted  to  Garassim  ;  whithersoever 
he  went,  she  followed  him,  wagging  her  bushy  tail.  He 
gave  her  a  name  :  he  called  her  Mumu.  Deaf-mute 
persons  know  very  well  that  their  voice  attracts  the 
notice  of  such  as  can  hear.  All  the  people  in  the  house 
liked  the  dog  and  called  her  by  the  name  her  master  had 
given  her — Mumu.  She  in  her  turn  behaved  well 
toward  everybody,  but  she  liked  only  Garassim.  He 
simply  loved  her  beyond  everything  else.  He  did  not 
like  to  see  others  play  with  her.  Was  he  afraid  that  she 
might  be  hurt,  or  was  he  jealous  of  her  affections  ? 
God  alone  knows. 

She  used  to  wake  him  in  the  morning  by  pulling  at 
his  coverlet.  She  learned  to  lead  out  by  the  bridle  the 
old  nag  which  was  appointed  for  water-carrying,  and 
with  which  she  lived  on  friendly  terms.  With  an  air  of 
importance  she  accompanied  her  master  when  he  drove 
to  the  river  for  water  ;  she  guarded  his  brooms  and 
shovels,  and  would  not  allow  any  one  to  come  into  his 
room.  He  cut  out  a  hole  in  his  door  for  her  to  pass  in 
and  out,  and  she  seemed  to  feel  that  only  in  his  room  she 
might  have  her  will.  As  soon,  therefore,  as  she  entered 
it,  she  jumped  upon  the  bed  and  stretched  herself  .with 
an  air  of  comfort  and  satisfaction. 

By  night  she  would  not  sleep  at  all.  But  she  was  not 
like  other  dogs,  which,  sitting  on  their  hind  legs  and 
raising  their  snouts,  bark  at  the  twinkling  stars  the 
whole  night  through,  merely  to  while  away  time.  No  ; 
the  sharp  barking  of  Mumu  was  heard  only  when  a 
stranger  came  near  the  fence  of  the  yard,  or  when  any 
suspicious  noise  was  heard  around  the  house. 

In  brief,  Mumn  was  an  excellent  watchdog.  It  is 
true  there  was  an  old  dog  in  the  house,  with  yellow  hair 
spotted  dark  brown,  whose  name  was  Yoltch'ok.  But  he 


34  MUMU. 

was  never  let  off  the  chain  at  night,  and  by  reason  of  old 
age  he  did  not  evince  the  least  desire  for  freedom.  He 
was  lying  twisted  up  in  his  kennel,  from  which  he  sel- 
dom came  out,  and  very  seldom  he  uttered  a  hoarse, 
sleepy  barking  which  he  would  cut  short  in  an  instant, 
as  though  he  felt  himself  the  uselessness  of  such  an 
effort. 

Mumu  never  entered  her  ladyship's  apartments. 
When  Garassim  carried  wood  thither,  she  would  stop  on 
the  porch  waiting  for  him,  turning  her  head  restlessly 
and  pointing  her  ears  at  every  noise  that  was  made  by 
the  opening  of  doors. 

Another  year  passed  by,  during  which  Garassim  ap- 
peared quite  satisfied  with  his  position  and  life.  But 
suddenly  an  unexpected  occurrence  subverted  every- 
thing. One  fine  summer  afternoon  her  ladyship  was  in 
good  humor.  She  walked  about  in  the  parlor  with  her 
maids-in-waiting,  and  was  pleased  to  laugh  and  to  pass 
off  jokes.  The  maids,  too,  laughed  and  made  jokes,  but 
their  minds  were  not  at  ease.  They  never  felt  quite 
happy  when  her  ladyship  was  in  good  humor.  In  the 
first  place,  she  was  very  exacting  when  in  such  a  mood  ; 
she  required  of  every  one  around  her  to  be  in  good 
humor,  and  was  angry  if  any  one  looked  dissatisfied. 
Besides  this,  such  a  whim  was  generally  of  short  duration, 
and  soon  gave  place  to  a  sour  and  irksome  disposition 
which  caused  great  trouble.  On  that  morning  her  lady- 
ship awoke  in  a  happy  moment.  Laying  out  her  cards 
(as  she  was  wont  to  do  regularly  every  morning),  she 
found  the  prognostication  that  her  wishes  \vould  be  ful- 
filled. At  breakfast  her  tea  tasted  very  good,  and  she 
bestowed  praises  on  her  waiting-maid,  and  gave  her  a 
grivenik  (ten  kopecks)  in  cash.  With  a  pleasant  smile 
011  her  withered  lips  she  promenaded  through  the  parlors 


MUMU.  35 

and  looked  out  through  the  window.  There  was  a 
palisade  laid  out  before  that  window,  on  the  central  ele- 
vation in  which  Mumu  was  lying  under  a  rose-bush, 
gnawing  a  bone.  Her  ladyship's  eye  alighted  on  the 
dog. 

"  Gracious  Heaven  !"  she  called  out,  "  what  dog  is 
that  there  ?' ' 

The  maid-in-waiting  to  whom  she  addressed  herself 
became  confused  with  that  discomfiture  which  generally 
befalls  a  subordinate  when  his  superior  asks  him  some- 
thing, and  he  does  not  know  in  what  sense  the  question 
is  put. 

"I — I — do — not — know,"  she  stammered.  "I  be- 
lieve that  it  belongs  to  the  deaf-mute  menial,  your 
ladyship." 

"  What  a  lovely  creature  that  is  !"  cried  the  lady. 
"  Order  it  to  be  brought  here.  Is  it  long  since  he  has 
had  it  ?  Why  have  I  not  seen  it  before  ?  Order  it  to  be 
brought  here  immediately." 

"  Hey,  there,  Stepan  !"  the  maids  called  in  concert  to 
the  groom.  "  Bring  Mumu  here.  Quick  !  She  is  in 
the  palisade.  Be  quick  !" 

"  Ah  !"  said  the  lady,  "  her  name  is  Mumu  !  What 
a  beautiful  name  that  is  !' ' 

"Ah!"  said  the  maids,  "most  exquisite,  indeed! 
Be  quick,  Stepan  !  Do  you  hear  ?" 

Stepan  was  off  on  his  errand.  He  tried  to  catch 
Mumu,  but  she  adroitly  avoided  him  and  ran  to  her  mas- 
ter. Garassim  was  at  that  time  in  the  kitchen  cleaning  a 
big  barrel  which  two  men  could  hardly  manage,  but  which 
he  handled  as  easily  as  a  toy-drum.  Stepan  ran  into  the 
kitchen  to  catch  Mumu.  She  avoided  him,  running 
about  between  her  master's  legs.  Garassim,  leaving  his 
barrel,  stood  up  in  his  colossal  height  and  looked  at  the 


36  MUMU. 

chase  with  a  broad  grin.  At  last  the  groom  gave  up  the 
chase  and  appealed  to  Garassim,  explaining  by  gestures 
that  her  ladyship  wished  the  dog  to  be  brought  to  her. 
Garassim  appeared  astonished,  but  he  called  the  dog, 
picked  her  up  and  handed  her  to  the  groom. 

Stepan  took  her  to  the  parlor  and  placed  her  on  the 
floor.  Her  ladyship  began  calling  her  with  a  voice  as 
sweet  as  she  could  make  it.  Mumu,  who  had  never  seen 
the  inside  of  such  a  large  and  gorgeous  room,  was  shy 
and  turned  quickly  to  the  door,  but  the  groom  chased 
her  back.  There  the  poor  dog  stood  close  to  the  wall, 
trembling  in  all  her  limbs. 

"Mumu,  Mumu,  come  to  rne  ;  come  to  your  mis- 
tress," called  her  ladyship.  "  Come,  little  fool ;  don't 
be  afraid." 

"Come,  come,  Mumu,"  called  the  maids-in-waiting 
in  concert.  "  Come  to  her  ladyship,  you  little  fool  ; 
don't  be  afraid." 

But  the  dog  looked  about  with  anxiety,  and  did  not 
move  from  her  place. 

"  Bring  her  something  to  eat,"  said  the  lady.  "  How 
foolish  she  is  ;  she  won't  come  to  her  mistress  !  I  won- 
der what  she  is  afraid  of." 

"  They  are  not  yet  accustomed  to  the  surroundings," 
suggested  one  of  the  maids  timidly,  speaking  of  the  dog 
in  the  plural  out  of  respect,  you  know,  for  she  was  now 
the  subject  of  interest  to  her  ladyship. 

Stepan  brought  a  cup  of  milk  and  placed  it  before 
Mumu,  but  she  would  not  even  turn  to  it,  and  continued 
looking  about  her  with  anxiety. 

"  Oh,  what  a  foolish  creature  you  are  !"  said  the 
lady,  coming  near  to  the  dog  and  trying  to  pat  her. 
Mumu  showed  her  teeth,  and  her  ladyship  quickly  with- 
drew her  hand. 


MUMU.  37 

A  pause  ensued.  Mumu  uttered  a  feeble  winning,  as 
if  trying  to  complain  or  begging  to  be  pardoned.  The 
lady  turned  away  from  her  with  a  dark  brow  ;  the 
quick  motion  of  the  dog  had  frightened  her. 

"  Oh  !  oh  !"  cried  the  maids  in  concert.  "  Did  she 
not  bite  your  ladyship  !  God  forbid  !"  (Mumu  had 
never  bitten  anybody,  and  they  knew  it.)  "  Oh  !  oh  !" 

"  Take  her  away  !"  ordered  Jier  ladyship.  "  What  a 
nasty,  vicious  dog  that  is  !"  She  turned  around  and  re- 
paired to  her  private  chamber. 

The  maids  exchanged  anxious  looks  and  made  show  to 
follow  her.  She  stopped,  bestowed  a  chilling  glance  at 
them,  and  saying,  "  What  for  ?  I  have  not  called  you," 
she  went  off.  The  agitated  maids  waved  their  hands  to 
Stepan  ;  he  caught  Mumu  and  threw  her  out  right  at 
the  feet  of  Garassim.  The  lady  sat  in  her  private  apart- 
ment, looking  more  dismal  than  the  most  dismal  storm- 
clouds. 

Just  think  of  it,  how  the  most  insignificant  occurrence 
may  sometimes  aifect  the  disposition  of  a  human  being  ! 

Her  ladyship  was  in  bad  humor,  and  did  not  speak  to 
anybody  the  whole  day  ;  she  did  not  play  cards  in  the 
evening,  and  she  did  not  rest  well  at  night.  She  im- 
agined that  the  eau-de-Cologne  which  was  handed  her 
was  not  of  the  same  quality  as  she  was  accustomed  to 
have  ;  that  her  pillow-covers  smelled  with  soap  ;  and 
ordered  her  mistress  of  the  wardrobe  to  smell  at  every 
piece  of  linen  on  and  about  her.  In  brief,  she  was  as 
fretful  and  as  troublesome  as  she  could  be.  As  soon  as 
she  opened  her  eyes  the  next  morning  she  ordered  the 
steward  to  be  called. 

"  Tell  me,  please,"  she  began,  as  soon  as  he  appeared, 
"what  kind  of  a  dog  is  there  in  the  yard  ?  He  barked 
the  whole  night  and  disturbed  and  annoyed  me." 


38  MUMU. 

' '  A  dog,  your  ladyship  ?  What  dog,  your  ladyship  ? 
Perhaps  the  one  belonging  to  the  deaf-mute,  your  lady- 
ship ?"  the  steward  said  with  a  trembling  voice. 

"I  don't  know,"  she  said  petulantly,  "whether  it 
belongs  to  the  deaf-mute  or  to  any  other  person.  She 
disturbed  me — that  is  all.  I  wonder  why  we  need  so 
many  dogs  around  the  house.  Is  there  no  regular 
watchdog  here  ?" 

"  Of  course,  your  ladyship.  There  is  Yoltchok,  your 
ladyship. " 

"Well,  then,  what  do  we  need  more  dogs  for? 
There  is  only  disorder  in  the  house,  that  is  all.  There 
is  no  master  in  the  house,  and  people  take  all  sorts  of 
liberties.  Why  does  the  deaf-mute  need  a  dog  ?  Who 
gave  him  the  permission  to  keep  one  ?  Just  yesterday  I 
noticed  how  she  brought  some  nasty  thing  into  the  pali- 
sade and  gnawed  at  it  right  there  where  iny  roses  are 
planted."  She  paused  a  few  seconds,  and  then  said  : 
"  Put  her  out  this  very  day  ;  do  you  hear  me  ?" 

"  All  right,  your  ladyship." 

"  This  very  day,  I  say  !  Now  go.  I  shall  call  for 
your  report  later  on."  Gavrilo  went  out. 

Passing  through  the  parlors  he  made  himself  busy  re- 
placing the  call-bell  from  one  table  to  another  ;  at  the 
door  he  blew  his  flat  nose  with  a  subdued  noise,  and 
passed  on  to  the  vestibule.  There  the  groom  Stepan 
was  lying  asleep  on  the  bench,  forming  a  figure  like  that 
of  a  dead  warrior  on  the  battle-field,  as  represented  in  a 
picture  ;  liis  naked  feet  were  stiffly  stretched  out  from 
under  his  coat,  which  he  used  as  a  coverlet.  Gavrilo 
shook  him  up,  and  gave  him  some  orders  in  a  hushed 
voice,  to  which  he  responded  with  half  of  a  laugh  and 
half  of  a  yawn.  He  quickly  put  on  his  boots  and  coat 
and  placed  himself  on  the  porch  outside. 


MUMU.  39 

A  few  moments  later  Garassim  appeared  with  a  large 
load  of  wood  on  his  arms.  He  was  accompanied  by 
Murnu,  as  usual.  It  was  her  ladyship's  habit  to  have 
her  chamber  and  dormitory  heated  a  little,  even  in 
summer  time.  Garassim  pressed  with  his  elbow  on  the 
knob,  thus  turning  it,  and  opened  the  door  by  pushing 
it  with  his  shoulder.  Muniu  stopped  on  the  porch, 
waiting  for  him,  as  she  always  did.  This  opportunity 
the  groom  seized  to  catch  her.  He  threw  himself  upon 
her,  as  a  vulture  on  its  prey,  pressed  her  flat  to  the 
ground,  caught  her  up  and  carried  her  off  in  a  hurry, 
not  even  taking  time  to  put  on  his  cap. 

He  jumped  with  his  prize  into  the  first  droshka  that 
came  by  him  in  the  street,  and  drove  off  to  the  Okhotniy 
Ryad  (hunter's  market).  There  he  sold  her  for  a  pol- 
tinnik  (half  a  ruble)  on  the  condition  that  the  purchaser 
should  keep  her  tied  for  one  week  at  least.  He  imme- 
diately returned  home  in  the  same  droshka,  but  he 
alighted  at  a  small  distance  from  the  house.  Nor  did  he 
dare  to  enter  the  house  by  the  gate,  for  fear  that  he 
might  meet  Garassim  ;  he  went  around  through  the  alley 
and  climbed  over  the  back  fence  into  the  yard. 

But  his  fear  was  gratuitous.  Garassim  was  not  in  the 
house.  As  soon  as  he  had  deposited  his  wood  and 
come  out  of  her  ladyship's  apartments,  he  missed  his 
dog.  It  was  the  first  time  since  he  had  had  her  that  he 
failed  to  find  her  waiting  for  him.  He  ran  about  look- 
ing for  her.  He  first  ran  to  his  room,  then  to  the 
stables  and  to  the  barn,  calling  her  with  his  peculiar 
whine,  "  Muniu,  Mumu  !"  but  in  vain;  she  did  not 
appear. 

Whomsoever  he  met,  he  stopped,  inquiring  for  her 
by  gesticulation  ;  he  depicted  her  by  putting  his  hand 
flatly  stretched  at  about  a  half  yard  from  the  ground, 


40  MUMU. 

and  drawing  the  outlines  of  her  form  with  his  finger  in 
the  air,  while  he  vivaciously  imitated  her  motions  and 
barking.  Some,  indeed,  knew  what  had '  become  of 
Mumu,  but  no  one  would  inform  him  about  it.  They 
only  smiled  sadly  and  shrugged  their  shoulders  in  answer 
to  his  anxious  inquiries.  When  he  accosted  the  steward 
with  his  gesticulation,  the  latter  assumed  a  dignified  air 
and  began  scolding  the  hostler.  Garassim  then  ran  out 
into  the  street  in  search  of  his  dog. 

It  was  evening  when  he  returned  home.  By  his  tired 
look,  his  sluggish  gait,  and  by  the  dust  that  covered 
him  from  head  to  foot,  it  could  be  conjectured  that  he 
had  run  through  the  whole  city,  looking  for  Mumu. 
There  were  several  persons  of  the  household  on  the 
porch  when  he  returned.  He  turned  to  them  and 
whined,  "  Mumu,' '  but  they  could  not  answer  him.  He 
looked  at  the  windows  of  her  ladyship's  apartment, 
whined  again,  and  walked  off  to  his  room.  They  looked 
after  him,  but  no  one  made  a  remark,  no  one  smiled 
even.  The  inquisitive  groom,  Antipka,  reported  the 
next  day  that  he  had  watched  him  lying  awake  the  whole 
night  through,  turning  about  on  his  couch  arid  heaving 
deep  sighs. 

Garassim  did  not  leave  his  room  the  next  day,  and  the 
hostler,  Antipka,  was  obliged  to  bring  water  from  the 
river,  of  which  he  bitterly  complained.  Her  ladyship 
asked  the  steward  whether  her  orders  had  been  fulfilled, 
and  he  answered  in  the  affirmative. 

On  the  following  day  Garassim  went  about  his  work  as 
usual,  but  he  recognized  no  one  either  in  the  yard  or  at 
the  table.  His  countenance,  at  other  times  so  placid  and 
motionless,  appeared  now  like  a  piece  of  marble.  After 
dinner  he  left  the  house  again,  but  he  soon  returned  and 
laid  himself  down  on  a  rick  of  hay  in  the  barn. 


MUML*.  41 

Night  came,  a  beautiful,  calm,  moonlit  night.  Garas- 
sim  was  still  lying  in  the  hay,  restlessly  turning  on  all 
sides  and  sighing.  Suddenly  he  felt  something  pulling 
him  by  his  coat.  A  tremor  passed  through  him  ;  he 
suppressed  his  breathing  and  closed  his  eyes.  There  was 
another  and  stronger  pull.  He  jumped  up  ;  before  him 
was  Mumu  with  a  piece  of  rope  about  her  neck.  She 
tried  to  leap  on  him.  A  cry  of  intense  rejoicing  issued 
from  his  mute  breast  ;  he  caught  up  his  dog  and  pressed 
her  to  his  bosom.  She  licked  about  his  face,  his  lips, 
his  beard.  He  stopped  to  reflect  for  a  minute,  alighted 
from  the  hay-rick,  and  put  out  his  head  to  look  about 
in  the  yard.  Convinced  that  nobody  was  there,  he 
cautiously  repaired  to  his  room  and  happily  arrived  there 
without  being  observed.  He  had  conjectured  that 
Mumu  had  not  been  lost  by  mere  chance.  The  rope 
on  her  neck  confirmed  his  suspicion  that  she  had  been 
carried  away  by  the  order  of  her  ladyship,  as  the  people 
around  the  house  had  showed  him  that  she  had  snapped 
at  her.  He  therefore  resolved  now  to  take  good  care  of 
her  in  the  future. 

Arrived  at  his  room,  he  bolted  the  door,  fed  and 
caressed  her,  and  laid  her  down  to  sleep.  Stretching 
himself  on  his  couch,  he  lay  awake  the  whole  night,  re- 
volving in  his  mind  by  what  means  he  could  conceal  his 
dog  in  the  best  possible  manner.  At  last  he  resolved  to 
keep  her  locked  up  in  his  room  ;  he  would  look  after  her 
twice  or  three  times  during  the  day,  and  take  her  out  at 
night,  when  all  were  asleep,  to  give  her  an  airing.  He 
tightly  tucked  up  the  hole  which  he  had  cut  out  for  her 
in  the  door,  and  early  in  the  morning  he  came  out  of  his 
room  trying  to  look  as  unconcerned  as  though  nothing 
had  happened.  He  even  tried  to  look  down-hearted,  as 
if  he  still  missed  his  pet.  Poor,  innocent  artifice  !  It 


42  MUMU. 

never  occurred  to  him  that  the  dog  would  betray  herself 
by  her  whining. 

Indeed,  all  the  people  around  the  house  knew  the 
same  morning  that  Mumu  had  come  back,  and  that  she 
was  locked  up  in  Garassim's  room.  But  out  of  pity  to 
him  and  to  the  dog,  partly  also  out  of  fear  for  him,  they 
did  not  show  that  they  had  found  out  his  secret.  The 
steward,  on  hearing  the  news,  made  a  wry  face  ;  he 
scratched  the  back  of  his  head  thoughtfully  and  waved 
his  hand.  "  Well,  let  him  be,  in  Heaven's  name  !  It 
may  be  that  her  ladyship  will  not  hear  of  it. " 

No  one  worked  more  diligently  around  the  house  than 
Garassim  did  on  that  day.  He  cleaned  out  the  yard  in 
all  corners  ;  he  weeded  out  every  blade  of  grass  that 
sprang  up  between  the  stones  of  tlie  pavement  ;  he  reset 
every  spike  around  the  palisade  to  convince  himself  that 
there  were  no  rotten  ones  among  them.  In  brief,  he  dis- 
played so  much  ardor  and  thoughtful  care,  that  even  her 
ladyship  noticed  his  efforts  with  pleasure.  During  the 
day  he  stole  into  his  room  several  times  to  look  after 
Mumu,  and  early  in  the  evening  he  went  to  bed  with  his 
pet  in  his  arms. 

About  two  hours  after  midnight  he  arose  and  went 
out  in  the  yard  to  give  Mumu  a  little  exercise.  He 
walked  about  with  her  for  about  an  hour,  and  was 
already  on  the  point  of  retiring  again,  when  behind  the 
fence  in  the  rear  alley  a  sifting  noise  was  heard.  Mumn 
ran  up  to  the  fence  sniffling  and  pointing  her  ears,  and 
pealed  out  a  sharp,  protracted  barking.  Some  drunken 
person  had  disposed  himself  to  pass  the  night  in  the 
alley. 

This  happened  just  at  the  moment  when  her  ladyship 
was  falling  asleep  after  a  repeated  "  nervous  spell. "  She 
was  wont  to  have  such  spells  very  often  after  she  had  in- 


MUMU.  43 

dulged  herself  with  too  strong  a  supper.  The  sudden 
barking  of  Mumu  startled  her  ;  she  was  frightened. 

11  Girls  !  girls  !"  she  called  in  a  plaintive  voice.  The 
affrighted  girls  came  in  all  haste.  "  Oh  !  oh  !  girls,  I 
am  dying  !"  her  ladyship  moaned,  and  stretched  her 
arms  imploringly.  "  Again,  again  that  dog  !  Oh, 
send  for  the  doctor  !' ' 

She  threw  her  head  back,  which  was  to  indicate  a 
swoon.  Some  of  the  girls  ran  to  fetch  the  house  phy- 
sician, Kariton.  The  whole  science  of  that  physician 
consisted  in  wearing  very  light  shoes,  and  in  the  ability 
to  feel  the  pulse  gently.  His  occupation  was  sleeping 
fourteen  hours  in  the  day,  sighing  wistfully  the  rest  of 
the  time,  and  treating  her  ladyship  with  "  soothing  bal- 
sam." 

He  immediately  appeared  at  her  ladyship's  bedside  and 
scorched  some  feathers  under  her  nose.  This  was  his 
usual  relief  for  a  swoon.  She  opened  her  eyes  and 
stretched  her  hand  for  the  glass  of  the  coveted  medicine, 
which  was  held  in  readiness  on  a  salver.  Hereupon  she 
began  complaining  of  the  dog  in  a  tearful  voice  ;  she 
complained  of  the  steward,  of  her  sad  fate,  that  nobody 
cared  for  her,  the  old,  forlorn  and  forsaken  woman  ; 
that  everybody  wished  that  she  should  die. 

Unfortunate  Mumu,  in  the  mean  time,  continued  bark- 
ing, while  Garassim  tried  to  draw  her  away  from  the 
fence. 

"  There,  there  again  !"  moaned  the  lady,  and  turned 
up  her  eyes  with  a  look  of  despair.  The  physician  whis- 
pered something  to  the  senior  maid-in-waiting.  She  ran 
out  and  shook  up  the  groorn.  The  groom  ran  off  to 
wake  up  the  steward.  The  bewildered  steward  ordered 
to  rouse  the  whole  household. 

As  soon  as  Garassim  noticed  lights  and  figures  moving 


44  MUMU. 

about  in  tlie  windows,  he  felt  that  there  was  some  mis- 
chief brewing.  He  caught  his  dog,  ran  off  to  his  room 
•with  her,  and  bolted  the  door. 

A  few  minutes  later  five  fellows  tried  to  force  them- 
selves into  his  room,  bat  the  strong  bolt  resisted  their 
efforts,  and  they  stopped.  Gavrilo  came  to  the  scene  of 
action  in  all  haste,  and  ordered  the  five  men  to  stand  on 
the  watch  before  Garassim's  room  until  the  morning. 
He  then  sent  word  to  her  ladyship  by  the  senior  maid- 
in-waiting  (with  whom  he  was  accustomed  to  steal  in 
partnership  and  to  falsify  the  accounts  of  tea,  spices,  and 
other  household  articles)  that  the  dog  had  unfortunately 
returned  from  the  place  she  had  been  taken  to,  but  by 
to-morrow  she  would  be  alive  no  longer  ;  may  her  lady- 
ship be"  pleased  to  forgive,  and  calm  herself. 

The  lady  would  perhaps  not  have  calmed  herself  so 
soon  but  for  a  mistake  of  the  physician  ;  in  his  hurry  to 
afford  relief,  he  administered  to  her  forty  instead  of  fif- 
teen drops  of  the  "soothing  balsam."  The  power  of 
the  drug  showed  its  effect ;  her  ladyship  was  fast  asleep 
in  fifteen  minutes. 

Poor  Garassim  was  lying  on  his  couch  as  white  as 
chalk,  pressing  his  Murnu  to  his  heaving  breast. 

Her  ladyship  woke  up  quite  late  in  the  morning. 
Gavrilo  was  waiting  in  the  vestibule  in  order  to  report  the 
state  of  affairs  and  to  get  her  orders  for  a  decided  on- 
slaught on  Garassim's  stronghold.  He  at  the  same  time 
prepared  himself  to  stand  a  severe  chiding.  But  the 
chiding  did  not  come  ;  he  was  not  called  to  see  her  lady- 
ship in  person.  Lying  in  bed,  she  called  her  senior 
maid-in-waiting,  and  began  thus  in  a  feeble,  plaintive 
voice  : 

"My  dear  Liubov  Liubimovna"  (such  was  the  full 
name  of  the  maid)  "  you  see  in  what  a  state  of  -health  I 


MUMl*.  45 

am.  Go,  my  dear,  to  Gavrilo  Matveyitch,  and  speak  to 
him.  Is  some  nasty  dog  dearer  to  him  than  the  rest,  the 
very  life,  of  his  mistress  ?  I  cannot  believe  that  !"  Here 
she  sighed  deeply.  "  Go,  if  you  please,  and  speak  to 
Gavrilo  Matveyitch,  my  dear."  Her  ladyship  sometimes 
liked  to  assume  the  role  of  a  martyr.  Her  exquisite 
politeness  and  tearfulness  in  such  instances  made  the 
whole  household  feel  uneasy.  • 

The  maid-in-waiting  went  to  speak  to  Gavrilo.  It 
did  not  transpire  what  the  two  worthies  said  to  each 
other  ;  but  a  half  hour  after  the  consultation  a  whole 
crowd  of  men  marched  in  formidable  array  through  the 
courtyard  and  repaired  toward  Garassim's  stronghold. 

Gavrilo,  of  course,  marched  in  front.  He  held  his 
hand  to  his  cap,  although  there  was  no  wind  which 
might  carry  off  that  useful  part  of  his  outfit.  He  was 
followed  by  all  the  grooms,  hostlers,  cooks,  and  menial 
servants  of  the  household.  Uncle  Ivhvost  looked  out  of 
his  window  and  gave  orders,  i.e.  he  was  beating  the  air 
with  his  hands  in  all  possible  directions.  Behind  the 
belligerent  crowd  ran  a  number  of  ragged  children, 
some  of  whom  were  strangers  from  tbe  street.  On  the 
narrow  staircase  leading  to  Garassim's  room  there  stood 
the  five  watchmen  with  their  sticks  :  two  on  the  lowest 
stoop,  one  on  the  stairs,  and  two  more  right  by  the  door. 
The  troop  of  assailants  came  on  and  crowded  the  stair- 
case from  top  to  foot.  Gavrilo  knocked  with  his  stick 
at  the  door. 

"  Open  !"  he  commanded  in  stentorian  tones. 

Mumu's  muffled  barking  was  heard  inside,  but  no  an- 
swer came. 

"  Open,  I  say,  forthwith  !"  he  commanded  again, 
knocking  with  his  stick  at  the  door. 

"  Is  he  not  deaf,  Gavrilo  ?     How  can  you  expect  him 


46  MUMC. 

to  hear  you  ?"  called  the  groom  from  the  foot  of  the 
stairs. 

The  whole  crowd  laughed. 

"  What  is  to  be  done  DOW  ?"  said  Gavrilo,  scratching 
his  head. 

"  There  is  a  hole  in  his  door,"  called  Stepan  again. 
"  Put  your  stick  through  it  and  dabble  about  inside." 

Gavrilo  stooped  to  see  "the  hole. 

"  He  has  stopped  it  up  with  an  old  coat,"  he  said. 

"  Push  the  coat  inside  with  your  stick,"  suggested  the 
groom. 

Here  again  the  muffled  barking  of  Mumu  was  heard. 

"  Hush,  hush  !  How  she  betrays  herself  !''  some 
one  remarked  in  the  crowd.  They  all  laughed.  Gavrilo 
thoughtfully  scratched  himself  behind  his  ear. 

"  No,  friend  !"  he  said  ;  "if  you  want  to  have  the 
coat  pushed  in,  go  and  do  it  yourself. " 

"  Why  not?     I  shall  do  it." 

Stepan  elbowed  his  way  up-stairs.  He  pushed  the 
coat  in  and  dabbled  about  with  his  stick,  calling,  "  Come 
out,  come  out  !"  While  he  was  thus  courageously  at 
work,  the  door  opened,  and  in  it  appeared  the  colossal 
figure  of  Garassim.  The  whole  crowd  threw  itself  back 
pell-mell  down-stairs,  Gavrilo  ahead  of  them  all.  Uncle 
Khvost  quickly  closed  his  window. 

"  Ta-ta-ta,"  called  Gavrilo  from  his  retreat.  "  Look 
sharp,  my  dear  fellow,  look  out  !" 

Garassim  stood  like  a  pillar  in  the  door.  His  stalwart 
tigure  erect,  his  right  arm  lightly  curved  with  his  hand 
leaning  on  his  thigh,  dressed  in  his  red  cambric  blouse 
in  peasant's  fashion,  he  appeared  like  a  veritable  giant 
against  the  crowd  of  emasculated  little  fellows  beneath 
the  stairs  who  were  dressed  in  their  German  frocks. 
Gavrilo  at  last  took  courage  and  made  a  step  forward. 


MUMU.'  47 

"  Look  out,  my  dear  fellow  !"  he  said  to  Garassim,  as 
though  he  could  hear  what  he  said.  "  You  will  play  no 
mischief  with  me,  I  tell  you  !" 

Hereupon  he  showed  him  with  gestures  that  her  lady- 
ship required  him  to  give  up  the  dog  ;  there  would  be 
trouble  if  he  would  not  comply.  Garassim  pointed  to 
Mumu,  passed  his  hands  over  his  throat  as  if  tightening 
a  rope  around  it,  and  looked  inquiringly  at  the  steward. 

"Yes,  yes,"  gesticulated  Gavrilo.  "Positively  so  ; 
she  must  be  choked." 

Garassim  looked  down  for  a  few  seconds,  but  he  soon 
straightened  himself,  and  pointing  to  Mumu,  who  stood 
by  him  wagging  her  tail  and  looking  inquisitively  with 
her  expressive,  clear  eyes,  he  repeated  the  gesture  of 
choking,  and  struck  himself  in  the  breast,  thus  asserting 
that  he  would  do  it  himself.  All  understood  what  he 
meant. 

"  But  you  will  deceive  us  !"  gesticulated  Gavrilo. 

Garassim  bestowed  a  contemptuous  look  on  the  stew- 
ard, struck  himself  in  his  breast  again,  and  entered  his 
room,  closing  his  door  with  a  bang. 

All  were  silent,  and  exchanged  glances. 

"What  does  this  mean?"  began  Gavrilo.  "He 
locked  himself  up  again." 

"  Let  him  be,  Gavrilo  Andreyitch,"  said  Stepan. 
"  He  will  fulfil  his  promise.  He  is  just  that  kind  of  a 
fellow  ;  if  he  promises  to  do  a  thing,  he  will  do  it.  The 
truth  must  be  acknowledged  :  in  this  regard  he  is  quite 
different  from  what  we  are.  Yes,  just  so  !" 

"  Just  so  !  Just  so  !''  echoed  the  crowd,  wisely  shak- 
ing their  heads. 

Uncle  Khvost  opened  his  window  and  reiterated, 
"  Just  so  !" 

"  Well,  for  my  part,"  said  Gavrilo,  "  let  us  see.     But 


48  MUMU. 

watch  shall  be  kept  at  his  door.  I  say,  Eroshka,"  lie 
called  to  an  unkempt  individual  who  was  dressed  in  a 
yellow  cotton  jacket,  and  was  considered  the  gardener  of 
the  establishment,  "  You  have  nothing  to  do  now. 
Take  a  stick  and  mount  guard  here.  The  least  thing 
you  notice,  come  and  report  to  me." 

Eroshka  took  a  stick  and  sat  down  on  the  lowest  step 
of  the  staircase.  The  crowd  dispersed,  with  the  excep- 
tion of  a  few  curious  boys,  who  remained  hanging  about 
the  scene  of  action.  Gavrilo  sent  •  -»rd  to  her  ladyship 
that  everything  was  in  order  ;  but  to  provide  for  emer- 
gencies he  sent  the  chief  groom  to  the  runner,  ordering 
the  latter  to  hold  himself  ready  for  service.  Her  lady- 
ship, on  receiving  the  report  from  her  senior  maid-in- 
waiting,  made  a  little  knot  in  her  handkerchief,  dipped  it 
in  eau-de-Cologne^  and  smelled  at  it  and  rubbed  her  tem- 
ples. She  then  drank  a  few  cups  of  tea  with  relish, 
and.  as  the  effect  of  the  "  soothing  balsam"  was  not  yet 
passed,  she  soon  fell  asleep  again. 

About  two  hours  after  the  siege,  Garassim  came  out 
of  his  room.  He  was  dressed  in  his  holiday  suit,  and  led 
his  Mumu  by  a  string.  Eroshka  made  room  for  him  to 
pass.  He  went  straight  through  the  yard,  holding  his 
cap  in  his  hand.  Gavrilo  ordered  Eroshka  to  follow 
him  at  a  distance,  observing  what  he  would  do.  Garas- 
sim did  not  put  on  his  cap  until  he  had  passed  through 
the  gate.  He  entered  a  restaurant  where  he  was  known 
and  his  gesticulations  were  understood,  and  ordered  a 
strong  soup  with  meat.  He  sat  down  by  a  table  waiting, 
with  his  head  reclined  on  his  hand.  Mumu  stood  by 
him,  watching  him  with  her  clever,  bright  eyes.  She 
looked  clean,  her  fur  was  glossy,  as  if  she  had  just  been 
washed  and  combed.  The  meal  was  served.  Garassim 
carefully  cut  the  meat  into  small  pieces,  and  putting  it 


MUMTJ.  49 

into  the  soup  he  placed  it  on  the  floor  for  Mumu.  Ho 
watched  her  while  she  daintily  partook  of  the  meal,  and 
two  heavy  tears  fell  from  his  eyes.  One  fell  upon  the 
head  of  the  dog,  the  other  one  into  her  plate.  He  cov- 
ered his  face  with  both  hands. 

Mumu  ate  about  half  of  the  meal  and  went  aside,  lick- 
ing her  snout  with  a  relish.  Garassim  arose,  paid  for 
the  meal,  and  left  the  room.  The  waiter  looked  after 
him  with  silent  amazement.  As  soon  as  Eroshka,  who 
had  stopped  outside  to  watch  for  him,  saw  him  come,  he 
jumped  aside  and  hid  himself  behind  the  corner.  When 
he  had  passed,  leading  Mumu  by  the  string,  Eroshka 
emerged  from  his  hiding-place  and  followed  him  again. 

Garassim  walked  slowly  and  thoughtfully  some  dis- 
tance ;  then  he  stopped  for  a  few  seconds,  as  if  trying 
to  recollect  something.  Hereupon  he  quickly  turned 
around  the  corner  and  marched  in  long  strides  as  far  as 
the  Krimsky  Broda,  and  took  his  road  by  the  river  side. 
He  entered  a  courtyard  where  he  saw  bricks  lying  about, 
and  took  two  of  them,  which  he  carried  off  under  his  arm. 

He  walked  on  until  he  reached  a  bridge,  where  he  had 
noticed,  on  a  previous  occasion,  two  boats  with  heavy 
oars  lying  in  the  river  tied  to  a  pole.  He  jumped  into 
one  of  the  boats  with  Mumu,  and  having  loosened  it  he 
laid  hold  of  the  oars.  An  old  little  man  with  a  short  leg 
came  out  of  a  shanty  which  stood  in  the  corner  of  a  yard 
near  by,  and  began  speaking  angrily  to  him.  He  nod- 
ded, and  began  rowing  so  mightily  that,  notwithstanding 
he  took  his  course  against  the  stream,  in  a  few  moments 
he  was  a  couple  of  hundred  yards  away.  The  little  man 
looked  on,  scratched  the  back  of  his  head  first  with  his 
right  hand,  then  with  his  left,  then  with  both  hands 
together  ;  then  he  turned  around  and  went  limping  back 
to  his  shanty. 


50  MUMtf. 

Garassim  rowed  on  and  on.  The  city  was  left  be- 
hind ;  along  the  coast  there  appeared  gardens,  meadows, 
cornfields,  and  young  forests.  Scattered  peasants'  cots 
were  seen.  The  fragrant  village  air  was  wafted  from 
the  shore.  He  let  the  oars  hang,  and  bent  himself  over 
Mumu,  who  stood  by  him  on  the  dry  seat.  The  boat 
was  full  of  water  at  the  bottom. 

With  his  mighty  arms  thrown  about  the  dog  and  his 
head  reclining  on  her  head,  he  remained  motionless  for 
some  time,  while  the  boat  was  slowly  carried  by  the  stream 
back  toward  the  city.  At  last  he  straightened  himself 
out,  and  quickly,  but  with  an  expression  of  intense  suffer- 
ing on  his  countenance,  he  tied  his  two  bricks  to  the  other 
end  of  the  string  by  which  Mumu  was  tied,  and  making 
a  noose,  he  threw  it  around  the  dog's  neck  and  raised 
Mumu  and  the  bricks  above  the  water.  Mumu  looked 
at  him  without  fear  and  caressingly  wagged  her  tail. 

He  turned  his  head  aside,  closed  his  eyes  with  a  dis- 
tressing contortion  of  his  features,  and  dropped  the  dog 
with  the  bricks.  He  did  not  hear  the  abrupt  cry  of 
Mumu,  nor  the  splash  of  the  bricks  falling  into  the 
water.  Was  not  the  noisiest  day  more  silent  for  him 
than  the  most  silent  night  for  us  ? 

When  he  reopened  his  eyes,  the  little  wavelets  of  the 
river  chased  one  another  in  their  usual  way  ;  they 
splashed  around  his  boat  as  they  did  before.  But  far 
behind  him  the  surface  of  the  river  was  rippled  in  an 
unusual  manner  by  large  circles,  which  grew  fainter  as 
they  grew  larger. 

As  soon  as  Garassim  had  rowed  off  on  the  river, 
Eroshka  went  home  and  reported  all  that  he  had  seen. 

"  Well,  it  is  all  right,"  hereupon  remarked  Stepan. 
"  He  will  drown  her.  We  may  depend  on  that,  since 
he  has  promised." 


MUMF.  51 

Garassim  was  not  seen  in  the  house  the  whole  day. 
His  seat  remained  unoccupied  at  the  dinner  table. 
Evening  came.  The  whole  household  assembled  in  the 
large  servants'  hall  for  supper,  but  Garassim  was  not  in 
their  midst. 

"  What  a  peculiar  fellow  that  Garassim  is  !"  remarked 
a  stout  laundress  in  a  squeaking  voice.  "  How  can  a 
man  worry  himself  so  much  about  a  dog  ?" 

"He  was  here,"  said  Stepan,  helping  himself  to 
soup. 

"  When  ?    When  ?"  asked  all  in  concert. 

"  About  two  hours  ago,  sure.  I  saw  him  come  and 
leave  the  house  again.  I  met  him  at  the  gate,  and 
wanted  to  ask  him  what  he  had  done  with  Mumu  ;  but 
he  seemed  to  be  in  bad  humor.  Well,  he  pushed  me 
aside,  Iby  which  he  probably  meant  to  imply  that  I 
should  not  bother  him.  But  he  treated  me  to  a  wonder- 
ful crack  on  the  neck  !  Oi-oi-oi  !  I  tell  you  !"  Here 
he  rubbed  his  neck,  contorting  his  features  as  if  he  were 
in  pain.  "  He  has  a  blessed  little  fist,  that  Garassim  has, 
indeed  !" 

They  all  laughed  at  Stepan's  recital  and  grimace  ; 
after  supper  they  dispersed. 

In  the  mean  time  a  gigantic  figure  with  a  bundle  on 
the  shoulder  and  a  strong  stick  in  the  hand  was  marching 

on  the  T high-road  with  evident  determination  and 

self-assurance.  This  was  Garassim.  He  made  long 
strides  toward  his  old  home,  his  village,  his  native  place. 
Having  drowned  Mumu,  he  ran  back  to  his  room, 
quickly  gathered  up  his  few  things,  which  he  tied  in  a 
bundle,  and  went  off.  He  knew  the  way  to  his  village, 
having  taken  good  notice  of  all  that  his  eyes  had  met 
when  he  was  taken  to  Moscow.  That  village  was  situ- 
ated only  about  twenty-five  versts  from  the  high-road. 


52  MUMU. 

He  now  strode  onward  on  that  road  with  desperate  de- 
termination, mingled  with  a  sense  of  pleasure.  He 
marched  quickly,  as  if  his  old  mother  were  waiting  for 
him,  as  if  she  had  called  him  back  home  after  he  had 
lingered  for  many  years  in  a  strange  land  among 
strangers. 

A  calm,  moonlit  summer  night  was  coming  on.  To 
his  right,  where  the  sun  had  just  gone  down,  the  horizon 
was  white,  interlaced  with  reddish  stripes  ;  to  his  left 
the  bluish-dark  mist  of  the  evening  was  rising.  He 
marched  on.  The  night  passed  away.  Thousands  of 
quails  sang  noisily  around  him  ;  thousands  of  snipes 
chirped  their  loudest,  as  if  trying  to  outdo  each  other. 
Garassim  could  not  hear  them,  as  he  had  not  heard  the 
soft  and  mysterious  lisping  of  the  trees  by  which  his 
sinewy  legs  had  carried  him  during  the  night.  But  he 
perceived  the  familiar  fragrance  of  the  ripening  rye 
wafted  to  him  from  the  fields.  He  could  feel  the  friendly 
air,  the  air  of  his  native  place,  blowing  in  his  large  face 
and  playing  in  the  long  tresses  of  his  sandy  colored  loose 
hair,  as  if  coming  to  meet  him  with  friendly  greetings. 
He  could  see  the  whitening  road  stretched  in  a  straight 
line  before  him,  the  road  which  led  homeward.  He 
could  see  the  myriads  of  stars  which  twinkled  above  him 
during  the  night,  waning  away  one  by  one  in  the  gray 
mist  of  the  morning.  Like  a  mighty  lion  he  moved  on, 
with  bold  and  easy  strides.  When  the  rising  sun 
touched  his  glowing  countenance  with  its  first  rays,  he 
was  at  a  distance  of  thirty-five  versts  from  Moscow. 

In  two  days  Garassim  arrived  home  and  entered  his 
cottage.  A  soldier's  widow,  who  had  been  allowed  to 
occupy  the  cottage,  was  astonished  to  see  him  enter.  He 
bowed  himself  before  the  holy  image,  and  made  the  sign 
of  the  cross  over  his  breast  as  soon  as  he  entered  the 


MUMU.  53 

place,  and  went  out  forthwith  to  show  himself  to  the 
foreman  of  the  village.  The  latter  was  also  astonished 
to  see  him.  But  the  hay- harvest  had  just  begun,  and  a 
worker  like  Garassim  was  not  unwelcome.  A  scythe 
was  soon  given  him,  and  he  went  to  work  harvesting  as 
he  was  wont  to  do  in  olden  times.  And  he  worked  with 
a  will,  so  that  the  other  socage  laborers  felt  a  tremor 
pass  through  them  at  seeing  the  mighty  sweep  of  his 
scythe  and  the  powerful  clutch  of  his  hand. 

The  day  after  Garassim  left  Moscow,  he  was  missed  at 
tlie  house.  Two  of  the  underlings  went  to  his  room,  and 
having  found  it  open  and  unoccupied,  reported  the  deaf- 
mute's  absence  to  Gavrilo.  The  steward  shrugged  his 
shoulders,  scratched  the  back  of  his  head,  and  concluded 
that  Garassim  had  either  drowned. himself  together  with 
his  dog,  or  had  run  away.  He  sent  word  to  the  police 
headquarters  that  such  a  serf  was  missing,  and  went  to 
report  the  affair  to  her  ladyship. 

Her  ladyship  was  kindled  with  anger ;  she  cried, 
scolded,  threatened,  and  fainted  by  turns  ;  she  protested 
that  she  had  never  ordered  to  destroy  the  dog.  And 
finally  she  gave  the  steward  such  a  chiding,  that  he 
went  about  the  whole  day  scratching  his  head  and  mut- 
tering, "  Well,  well  !"  Only  toward  evening  Uncle 
Khvost  succeeded  in  reassuring  him,  by  saying,  "  Well, 
well,  well  !" 

Four  days  later  the  information  came  from  the  village 
that  Garassim  had  safely  returned  thither.  Her  lady- 
ship calmed  herself  a  little.  She  gave  orders  that  he 
should  be  sent  back  to  Moscow  forthwith  ;  but  after  a 
moment's  reflection  she  revoked  the  order,  saying  that 
she  had  no  need  of  such  an  ungrateful  servant  about  her 
house. 

She  died,  however,  soon  afterward,  and  her  heirs  took 


54  MUMtr. 

no  special  interest  in  Garassim  ;  they  allowed  all  the 
serfs  that  had  served  in  their  ' '  dear  mother's' '  household 
to  go  free  in  consideration  of  an  annual  head-tax. 

And  Garassim  lives  still  isolated  in  his  lonely  cottage. 
He  is  as  healthy  and  as  strong  as  he  ever  was,  and  per- 
forms the  work  of  four  ordinary  men,  as  he  did  before. 
He  is  imposing  in  appearance,  strict  and  orderly  in  de- 
portment. His  neighbors  have  noticed  that  since  he  re- 
turned from  Moscow  he  never  has  paid  any  attention  to 
women,  and  has  kept  no  dog. 

"  It  is  well  for  him,"  they  often  remark,  "  that  he  is 
spared  the  annoyance  of  having  a  woman  troubling  him. 
As  to  a  dog — of  what  use  would  be  a  dog  to  him  ?  No 
thief  will  come  to  his  cottage  if  he  be  dragged  thither 
by  a  pair  of  oxen." 

Thus  the  story  is  told  about  the  gigantic  and  powerful 
deaf-mute  serf. 


END. 


INTRODUCTORY. 


"THE  Diary  of  a  Superfluous  Man,"  by  Ivan  Tur- 
genieff,  was  published  for  the  first  time  in  a  Russian 
quarterly  journal  in  1850.  Turgenieff  was  at  that  time 
not  so  well  known  in  the  literary  world  as  he  is  at  the 
present  time.  His  stories  were  frequently  passed  over 
with  indifference,  even  by  his  countrymen.  I  would  not 
know  "  The  Diary,"  etc.,  much  less  would  I  take  the 
trouble  of  translating  it  into  another  language,  were  it 
not  for  the  peculiar  circumstances  which  brought  it  to 
my  cognizance. 

In  the  year  1856  I  had  to  spend  a  few  days  in  Yilko- 
mir,  a  corporate  town  in  the  district  of  Vilna.  That 
place  was  very  dull  for  me,  as  I  had  never  been  in  any 
smaller  city  than  Yilna,  my  native  town.  It  lacked 
also  the  attractiveness  of  a  rural  place,  for  it  had  the 
pretensions  of  a  business  city,  and  the  noise  and  bustle 
in  the  streets  made  one  forget  nature  and  all  its  attrac- 
tions. I  had  no  books  to  read,  and  no  congenial  com- 
pany to  spend  my  time  with.  At  last  I  was  requested 
by  a  lawyer  to  revise  for  him  some  documents  which  he 
had  drawn  up.  Lawyers  are  not  always  good  grammari- 
ans, in  Russia  or  elsewhere.  When  I  was  through  with 
his  manuscripts,  I  asked  him  whether  he  had  any 
books  to  read  beside  those  of  legal  contents.  "  Any 
book  will  do — a  novel  will  do — only  give  me  something 
to  refresh  my  mind,  or  I  will  die  of  ennui."  He  had 


58  INTRODUCTORY. 

none  except  a  few  old  journals  mouldering  under  his 
case.  Even  these  were  welcome.  I  took  out  the  dusty 
papers,  and  discovered  among  them  the  pamphlet  in 
which  "The  Diary  of  a  Superfluous' Man"  was  pub- 
lished. The  inscription  attracted  my  attention,  and 
having  read  two  or  three  pages,  I  became  so  absorbed  in 
its  contents  that  I  did  not  lay  the  book  aside  until  I  had 
finished  it. 

As  this  was  the  only  literary  article  which  suited  my 
taste  at  Yilkomir,  I  pondered  on  it  the  rest  of  the  time 
I  had  to  spend  in  that  city.  The  more  I  reflected  on  the 
story  of  "  The  Superfluous  Man,"  the  better  I  found  it. 
To  tell  the  truth,  I  would  not  be  able  to  name  a  story 
which  had  made  more  impression  on  me  than  this  one  ; 
and  1  have  read  a  good  many  productions  of  this  kind, 
and  in  more  than  one  language.  The  smallest  thing  is 
turned  into  a  matter  of  importance,  when  our  imagina- 
tion knits  its  web  around  it.  I  have  translated  this 
sketch  into  German  for  a  lady  friend  ;  into  Hebrew  for 
a  colleague,  who  I  thought  might  be  benefited  by  it  ; 
and  into  English  for  exercise.  Some  of  my  friends,  to 
whom  I  have  read  the  English  translation,  considered  it 
of  sufficient  interest  to  have  it  published.  But  being 
doubtful  of  the  merits  of  the  translation,  I  had  not  the 
courage  to  lay  it  before  the  general  reader,  and  had  it 
published  in  periodicals  of  small  circulation — in  the 
American  Israelite  first,  and  afterward  in  the  jSunny 
South.  -Offering  it  now  to  the  general  public  in  book 
form,  in  a  revised  and  corrected  state,  I  cannot  let  the 
opportunity  pass  without  requesting  the  kind  notice  of 
the  story,  not  on  account  of  its  merits  in  the  English 
garb,  but  as  a  sample  of  the  keen  psychological  penetra- 
tion of  my  illustrious  countryman,  the  author. 

The  character  of  Chulkaturin  (the  hero  of  the  plot)  is 


INTRODUCTORY.  59 

indigenous  to  Russia.  The  marked  distinctions  between 
the  different  classes  of  society  before  the  laws  and  cus- 
toms of  the  country,  generate  and  rear  such  ' '  superflu- 
ous men. "  A  gentleman  of  noble  lineal  descent  (Dvori- 
anin)  has,  by  virtue  of  his  social  station,  no  other  career 
open  before  him  but  that  of  official  service.  The  chil- 
dren of  that  favored  class  of  citizens  are  raised  in  such  a 
manner  as  to  become  unfit  for  either  mechanical  or  com- 
mercial pursuits  in  life.  The  nobility  of  their  ancestors 
and  the  records  of  their  pedigrees  and  coats-of-arms  are 
the  cradle  songs  of  such  children,  which  impress  them 
with  a  sense  of  superiority  over  the  rest  of  mankind. 
If  the  noble  parents  are  rich  and  can  give  their  children 
a  good  education,  and  if  they  have  social  connections  of 
influence  to  further  those  children  on  their  subsequent 
career,  either  in  military  or  civil  service,  success  is  insured 
to  a  certain  degree.  You  can  find  in  St.  Petersburg, 
Moscow,  and  other  large  Russian  cities,  noblemen  who 
are  very  well  educated,  and  can  compare  favorably  with 
the  enlightened  classes  of  other  countries  ;  but  these  are 
only  the  happy  exceptions  to  the  rule. 

The  majority  of  nobles  in  the  smaller  towns  and  vil- 
lages cannot  afford  to  give  their  children  a  liberal  educa- 
tion ;  nor  have  they  such  social  connections  as  to  send 
them  out  into  the  world  under  good  auspices,  that  they 
may  acquire  those  brilliant  social  qualities  which  are 
necessary  for  the  aristocratic  class.  But  they  are  nobles 
anyhow.  The  members  of  their  caste  will  forgive  them 
for  any  means  they  may  employ  to  eke  out  an  existence, 
except  such  means  as  are  used  by  the  lower  classes  of 
society.  Sponging  on  others  is  excusable  for  a  noble  ; 
official  corruption  is  nothing  out  of  order ;  even  gam- 
bling is  pardonable  ;  but  working  at  the  mechanic's 
bench  or  engaging  in  commercial  enterprises  sets  him 


60  INTRODUCTORY. 

immediately  on  a  par  with  the  mies^chanin^  or  towns- 
man, who  belongs  to  the  lower  class  of  society,  and  ex- 
cludes him  from  the  class  of  nobles.  Their  children  are 
raised  with  these  mistaken  notions  of  superiority,  with  a 
disdain  for  anything  which  is  not  popular  with  their 
caste,  but  without  the  necessary  outfit  of  knowledge  and 
social  qualities  to  maintain  them  in  any  honorable  posi- 
tion. What  such  a  class  of  citizens  may  become  for 
society  can  be  easily  imagined  ;  arid  if  they  lack  the 
courage  to  do  evil,  and  they  have  not  the  energy  to 
make  headway  for  themselves  in  any  wise,  they  must 
necessarily  become  "  superfluous  men." 

The  superficial  education  they  have,  combined  with  a 
sense  of  bitterness  which  disappointed  hopes  will  im- 
part, causes  them  to  become  what  the  hero  of  this  story 
is — cynics,  remorseless  satirists,  despondent,  dissatisfied 
and  isolated  caricaturists.  A  consciousness  of  his  own 
unworthiness  and  uselcssness  gnaws  at  his  life,  and  the 
"  Superfluous  Man"  lives  and  dies  a  miserable  creature 
indeed.  In  this  wise  the  spirit  of  equality  avenges  itself 
on  those  who  make  of  themselves  exceptions  of  the  rest 
of  mankind.  The  "  Superfluous  Man"  is  of  a  noble 
birth  and  parentage  ! 

The  "  Superfluous  Man"  looks  at  the  world  out  of 
himself,  and  judges  it  according  to  his  own  thoughts 
and  emotions,  instead  of  looking  into  himself  with  a 
knowledge  of  the  general  aspect  of  life  and  endeavoring 
to  improve  himself  so  as  to  be  in  harmony  with  life.  Her 
is  too  narrow-minded,  his  knowledge  is  too  superficial  to 
enable  him  to  take  a  broader  view  of  life.  lie  is  an 
egotist  because  the  fancy  of  superiority  is  hereditary 
with  him  ;  it  is  below  his  dignity  to  conform  himself  to 
the  rest,  to  learn  or  to  accept  anything  from  such  as  are 
not  of  his  caste.  He  refuses  to  see  the  kindness  and 


INTRODUCTORY.  61 

devotion  of  his  simple  old  nurse,  and  interprets  it 
wrongly  ;  he  rails  even  at  his  faithful  dog  :  neither  the 
nurse  nor  the  dog  is  a  noble  by  birth.  If  he  is  egotistic, 
gloomy,  and  unfit  for  life,  all  the  rest  must  be  bad. 

Those  who  do  enjoy  life,  either  because  of  an  intuitive 
piety,  or  on  account  of  a  natural  contentedness,  or  even 
by  their  sinful  endeavors,  are  alike  subjects  of  his  deri- 
sive sneer,  although  he  would  be  pious  if  he  had  the 
moral  fortitude,  contented  if  not  so  egotistic,  or  sinful 
if  he  had  the  courage  to  be  so.  He  knows  his  deficien- 
cies, and  cannot  command  the  strength  to  correct  them. 
If  the  recollection  of  a  bright  moment  occurs  to  him, 
instead  of  consoling  him  for  the  many  disappointments  he 
has  suffered,  it  acts  on  him  quite  differently  :  it  reminds 
him  that* life  has  some  blessings,  but  those  blessings  have 
been  denied  him  ;  it  therefore  makes  his  bitter  cup  more 
bitter,  his  dark  fate  still  darker.  Like  the  envious 
raven,  who  threw  mud  on  the  white  dove  to  make  her 
appear  as  black  as  himself,  so  the  "  Superfluous  Man" 
throws  his  satire  on  everything  around  him  for  his  con- 
solation. But  the  truth  gnaws  at  his  life  all  the  while  ; 
he  cannot  hide  himself  from  his  own  penetrating  glance, 
which  is  so  keen  to  perceive  the  faults  of  others. 

If  Chulkaturin  is  intended  to  personify  descendant 
aristocracy,  we  can  clearly  see  its  fate.  As  it  removes 
from  its  original  stock  it  becomes  first  impoverished, 
then  degraded,  then  "  superfluous,"  and  dies  at  last  in 
self-torment. 

This  is  the  lesson  I  have  learned  from  the  "  Diary  of 
a  Superfluous  Man."  May  the  reader  therefore  excuse 
my  partiality  to  the  story.  I  think  it  is  not  quite  a 
useless  lesson,  even  in  this  country,  where  there  is  no 
aristocracy.  It  is  not  the  name,  it  is  the  thing  which 
creates  the  mischief  in  this  case,  and  there  are  a  good 


62  INTRODUCTORY. 

many  notions  which  create  inequality  in  society  all  over 
the  world,  if  not  quite  so  bad  as  in  Russia,  yet  bad 
enough.  Heaven  have  mercy  on  those  who  are  raised 
to  become  like  Chulkaturin,  and  may  the  sins  of  their 
fathers  be  forgiven  I  HENRY  GERSONI. 


DIARY  OF  A  SUPERFLUOUS  MAN. 


HAMLET  OF  OVECHTT-VODA,  March  20. 

THE  physician  has  just  left  the  house.  At  last  have  I 
drawn  out  the  truth  from  him,  however  skilfully  he  tried 
to  conceal  it  ;  he  had  to  come  out  with  it  at  last.  Yes, 
I  will  soon  die — very  soon.  The  rivers  will  throw  off 
their  icy  cover,  and  I  shall  disappear  with  the  last  snow. 
1  shall  depart.  Where  to  ?  God  knows.  I  shall  also 
vanish  in  a  sea.  Well,  and  is  there  any  evil  in  this  ?  If 
death  be  inevitable,  it  is  better  to  die  in  the  spring. 

But  is  it  not  ridiculous  to  begin  writing  a  diary  about 
a  fortnight  before  death  ?  And  what  of  that  ?  Are 
fourteen  days  of  less  consequence  than  fourteen  years, 
or  even  fourteen  centuries,  in  the  sight  of  eternity  ? 
But  is  not  the  idea  of  eternity  a  foolish  fancy  ?  My 
mind,  it  seems,  is  wandering  off  in  a  labyrinth  of  ab- 
stract speculations  ;  that  is  an  evil  omen.  It  seems  that 
I  am  losing  courage.  It  would  be  better  were  1  to  nar- 
rate something.  The  air  is  damp  and  chilly,  and  I  may 
not  go  out.  What  shall  I  narrate  ?  Something  about 
my  sickness  ?  No  respectable  person  speaks  about  his 
pains.  Shall  I  compose  a. tale  ?  That  is  not  in  my  line. 
Shall  I  write  on  some  philosophical  subject  ?  I  am  not 
equal  to  such  a  task.  Shall  I  describe  my  surroundings  ? 
They  are  tiresome  to  me,  much  more  so  would  they  be 
to  the  reader.  I  am  tired  of  idling,  and  too  lazy  even 


64  DIARY   OF   A    SUPERFLUOUS   MAN. 

to  read  a  book.  A  wonderful  idea  strikes  my  mind  !  I 
shall  tell  myself  the  story  of  my  own  life.  That  is  just 
the  thing  a  person  ought  to  do  before  his  death,  arid  it 
cannot  offend  anybody.  I  shall  go  to  work  at  once. 

I  was  born  thirty  years  ago.  My  parents  were  well- 
to-do  land-owners.  My  father  was  a  passionate  gambler, 
and  my  mother  was  a  woman  with  a  character ',  a  very 
benevolent  lady.  I  never  knew  a  woman  whom  benevo- 
lence afforded  less  enjoyment  than  to  her.  She  actually 
fell  under  the  weight  of  her  own  dignity.  She  tor- 
mented everybody,  herself  included.  During  all  the 
fifty  years  of  her  life  she  never  rested,  never  folded  her 
arms.  She  was  constantly  busy  and  bustling  about  like 
an  ant,  with  the  only  difference  that  her  work  never 
had  any  object.  It  seemed  as  though  some  worm  were 
gnawing  at  her  heart,  causing  her  restlessness  day  and 
night.  Only  once  in  my  life  I  saw  her  perfectly  quiet  : 
it  was  on  the  day  after  her  death.  It  seemed  to  me  then 
that  her  face  bore  the  expression  of  silent  amazement. 
There  she  lay  in  her  coffin,  her  cheeks  sunken,  her  eyes 
motionless,  her  lips  half  apart,  her  whole  appearance 
conveying  the  idea,  "  How  pleasant  it  is  not  to  move 
one's  self  !"  Yes,  it  is  good,  very  good,  to  be  rid  at 
last  of  the  tiresome  consciousness  of  life,  of  the  incessant 
irksome  feeling  of  existence  !  But  this  is  not  to  the 
purpose. 

The  manner  in  which  I  grew  up  was  foolish  and  desti- 
tute of  enjoyment.  My  father  and  my  mother  both 
loved  me  ;  but  that  did  not  make  things  any  better. 
The  former  had  no  earthly  significance  or  influence  in 
his  own  house.  As  a  man  who  had  given  himself  to  an 
ignoble  and  ruinous  vice,  he  felt  his  degradation  ;  but 
he  had  not  the  moral  power  to  resist  his  vicious  desires  ; 
he  therefore  tried  to  win  the  condescension  of  his  ex- 


DIARY    OF   A   SUPERFLUOUS   MAN.  65 

emplary  wife  by  a  quiet,  submissive  and  humble  deport- 
ment. 

My  mother  bore  her  misfortunes  with  that  lofty  and 
dignified  patience  which  betrayed  too  much  of  selfish 
pride.  She  never  reproached  my  father  for  anything  he 
did.  She  gave  him  all  the  money  she  had,  and  paid  his 
debts  without  a  murmur.  He  always  praised  her  highly, 
but  did  not  like  to  stay  at  home.  He  petted  me  stealth- 
ily, as  if  he  were  afraid  lest  he  infect  me  with  his  moral 
disease.  But  whenever  he  embraced  me,  his  marked 
features  bore  the  expression  of  such  tenderness,  the 
feverish  smile  around  his  lips  was  so  touching,  and  his 
mild  blue  eyes,  surrounded  by  a  multitude  of  fine  wrin- 
kles, beamed  with  so  much  love,  that  I  could  not  help 
pressing  my  cheek  to  his  face,  which  was  all  glowing 
with  emotion,  and  wet  with  tears.  I  wiped  those  tears 
with  my  handkerchief,  and  they  rolled  down  again  by 
themselves,  without  any  effort  on  his  part,  just  like 
water  from  the  edge  of  an  overflowing  glass.  I  would 
then  begin  to  cry,  too,  and  he  would  reassure  me,  pat 
ine  on  the  shoulder,  and  cover  my  face  with  kisses. 
Even  now  when  I  think  of  my  poor  father,  who  has 
been  dead  more  than  twenty  years,  a  mute  sobbing  fills 
my  throat,  and  my  heart  beats  swiftly  and  warmly,  and 
feels  oppressed  with  such  a  sorrowful  commiseration,  as 
though  it  were  yet  to  beat  for  a  long  time,  and  as  if 
there  were  yet  anything  to  commiserate. 

My  mother,  on  the  other  hand,  always  treated  me  uni- 
formly— kindly,  but  coldly.  "We  often  find  the  charac- 
ter of  such  mothers  portrayed  in  juvenile  books — moral- 
izing and  just.  My  mother  loved  me,  but  I  did  not  love 
her.  Tes,  I  kept  distant  from  my  virtuous  mother,  and 
loved  ardently  my  vicious  father. 

But  that  will  suffice  for  to-day.     I  have  made  a  be- 


66  DIARY    OF   A    SUPERFLUOUS   MAN. 

ginning,  and  need  not  worry  myself  about  the  rest.     It 
depends  on  my  sickness,  and  not  on  me. 

March  21. 

The  weather  is  splendid  to-day  ;  it  is  warm  and  clear. 
The  sim  plays  beautifully  upon  the  melting  snow. 
Everything  is  sparkling  with  dewy  crystals.  The  spar- 
rows, chirping  merrily,  hop  about  the  moist  and  vapor- 
laden  hedges.  The  damp,  sweet  air  irritates  my  breast. 
Spring,  spring  is  coming  !  I  am  sitting  at  the  window, 
looking  out  into  the  hazy  distance  far  beyond  the  small 
river. 

Oh,  Nature  !  Nature  !  I  love  thee  so  much  !  But 
from  thy  bosom  has  sprung  forth  a  being  who  is  unable 
even  to  live  !  There  is  a  sparrow,  hopping  with  ex- 
tended wings  and  tail.  He  chirps  loudly,  and  each 
sound  of  his  voice,  each  bristling  feather  on  his  little 
body,  betokens  health  and  strength.  Now,  what  of 
that  ?  .Nothing.  The  sparrow  is  healthy,  and  has  a 
right  to  chirp  and  bustle  about.  I  am  sick,  and  must 
die.  That  is  all.  It  was  foolish  of  me  to  make  a  re- 
mark about  it.  Tearful  addresses  to  Nature  are  very 
ridiculous.  Let  me  resume  my  narrative. 

The  manner  in  which  I  grew  up,  I  said,  was  foolish 
and  destitute  of  enjoyment.  I  had  neither  brothers  nor 
sisters,  and  was  educated  at  home.  With  whom  would 
my  mother  busy  herself  if  I  had  been  sent  to  school  ? 
Children  come  into  the  world  in  order  to  afford  pastime 
for  their  parents.  "We  generally  lived  in  the  village, 
but  at  times  we  spent  a  few  weeks  in  Moscow.  I  had 
my  teachers  and  mentors,  as  is  customary.  I  remember 
one  of  them  in  particular — a  lean  and  tearful  German, 
Rickman  by  name.  He  was  an  unusually  sad  individual, 
and  of  a  mournful  disposition.  He  was  consumed  by  an 


DIARY   OF   A    SUPERFLUOUS   MAN.  67 

ardent  but  fruitless  yearning  after  his  distant  fatherland. 
Sometimes  my  unshaven  uncle,  Vassil,  dressed  in  his 
everlasting  thick  blue  frock,  would  sit  near  the  hot  stove 
in  the  close  anteroom,  the  air  of  which  was  saturated 
with  the  sour  smell  of  kvass,*  and  while  he  played  cards 
with  the  driver,  Potapoff,  who  was  clad  in  a  white 
sheepskin  cloak  and  heavy  tarred  boots,  Kickrnan,  be- 
hind the  Spanish  wall,  would  sing  : 

"  Herz,  mein  Herz,  warum  so  traurig, 

Was  bekiiemmert  dich  so  sehr  ? 
'S  ist  ja  schoen  iin  fremden  Lande, 

Herz,  mein  Herz,  was  willst  du  mehr?" 

After  the  death  of  my  father  we  went  to  live  in  Mos- 
cow. I  was  then  twelve  years  old.  My  father  died  at 
night  of  apoplexy.  1  shall  never  forget  that  night.  I 
was  sleeping  soundly,  as  children  generally  do,  but  I  re- 
member that  even  in  my  sleep  I  heard  a  regular  and 
heavy  snoring.  Suddenly  somebody  shook  me  by  the 
shoulder.  1  opened  my  eyes  :  Uncle  Vassil  stood  before 
me. 

"  What  is  the  matter  ?" 

"  Get  up,  get  up — Alexey  Michailovitch  is  dying." 

1  jumped  out  of  bed  like  a  madman.  With  one  leap 
I  was  in  the  dormitory.  Father  was  lying  with  his  head 
thrown  back,  his  face  red,  and  deep  sounds  issuing  from 
his  throat.  At  the  door  there  was  a  throng  of  people 
with  frightened  faces.  In  the  antechamber  somebody 
asked,  in  a  loud  voice,  "  Has  a  physician  been  sent 
for  ?"  In  the  yard  the  gates  of  the  stable  creaked  on 
their  hinges,  horses'  feet  were  splashing  in  the  mud, 

*  Kvass  is  prepared  of  water  which  is  left  standing  for  some  time 
on  rye-yeast  until  it  becomes  quite  sour.  The  beverage  is  used 
throughout  Russia  as  a  refreshing  drink. — H.  G. 


68  DIARY    OF    A   SUPERFLUOUS   MAN. 

and  Potapoff's  voice  resounded  in  a  multitude  of  oaths. 
A  tallow  candle  burned  on  the  floor  of  the  room.  My 
mother  was  bustling  about,  without  losing  sight,  how- 
ever, either  of  respectability  or  of  the  consciousness  of 
her  own  dignity. 

I  fell  on  my  father's  breast  crying,  "  Papa,  dear 
papa  !"  He  did  not  move,  but  his  face  became  wrinkled 
in  a  strange  manner.  I  looked  at  him,  and  was  seized 
with  a  terror,  so  that  I  could  hardly  breathe.  I 
ecreamed  from  fright,  as  screams  a  bird  when  suddenly 
caught  by  a  rough  hand.  Somebody  raised  me  and  took 
me  out  of  the  room.  Only  the  previous  day  my  father 
had  fondled  me  so  affectionately,  with  such  a  sad  expres- 
sion in  his  countenance,  as  if  he  had  a  presentiment  of 
his  approaching  end.  A  sleepy  and  unshaven  physician 
came  into  the  room  ;  a  strong  smell  of  rye-brandy  came 
into  the  room  with  him.  My  father  died  under  his 
lancet. 

The  next  day  I  stood,  with  a  burning  candle  in  my 
hand,  before  the  table  on  which  the  remains  of  my 
father  were  laid  out.  I  was  all  benumbed,  and  listened 
mechanically  to  the  funeral  service  recited  by  the 
deacon  in  a  very  deep  voice,  at  times  interrupted  by  the 
shrill  voice  of  the  minister.  Tears  were  streaming  down 
over  my  cheeks,  my  lips,  my  collar,  my  shirt-front  ;  I 
was  melting  with  tears  without  any  feeling  in  my  breast. 
My  gaze  was  fixed  on  my  father's  face,  as  if  I  expected 
to  hear  him  speak.  My  mother  in  the  mean  time  was 
majestically  performing  her  religious  devotion.  She 
slowly  bowed  down,  touching  the  ground  with  her  fore- 
head, slowly  arose  and  crossed  herself  at  every  bow, 
pressing  the  tips  of  her  fingers  to  her  forehead,  breast, 
and  shoulders.  There  was  not  a  single  thought  in  my 
head  of  that  time,  but  I  felt  that  something  fearful  was 


DIAI?Y    OF   A    SUPERFLUOUS   MAN.  G9 

occurring  before  me.  Death  looked  into  my  face,  and 
took  good  notice  of  me. 

After  the  death  of  my  father,  we  went  to  live  in 
Moscow  for  a  very  simple  reason  :  everything  we  pos- 
sessed had  been  sold  under  the  auctioneer's  hammer — 
everything  except  one  small  village,  the  same  in  which 
I  am  now  ending  my  glorious  existence.  I  must  confess 
that,  notwithstanding  my  tender  age,  I  felt  really  sorry 
for  the  loss  of  our  nest.  I  was  especially  grieved  to  lose 
our  garden.  With  that  garden  were  associated  the  only 
bright  recollections  I  had.  In  the  silence  of  one  spring 
evening  I  buried  there  my  best  friend,  our  old  dog  Tris- 
ka,  who  had  a  short  tail  and  crooked  legs.  Hiding  my- 
self in  the  bushes  of  that  garden,  I  consumed  the  apples 
I  had  stolen^red,  sweet  apples,  real  Novogorodians. 
Among  the  raspberry  bushes  of  that  garden  I  for  the 
first  time  noticed  our  new  waiting-maid,  Avdotia,  who, 
notwithstanding  her  flat  nose  and  her  foolish  habit  of 
covering  her  face  with  a  handkerchief  while  she  giggled, 
awakened  in  me  such  a  tender  passion  that  I  could  hardly 
breathe  in  her  presence.  And  once  upon  an  Easter  Sun- 
day, when  her  turn  came  to  kiss  my  noble  hand,  I  felt 
like  throwing  myself  at  her  feet  and  kissing  her  old 
dusty  leather  boots. 

Have  really  twenty  years  passed  since  all  this  oc- 
curred ?  It  seems  but  a  short  time  since  I  was  riding  on 
my  shaggy  chestnut  pony  along  the  old  hedge  of  our 
garden,  and  raised  myself  in  the  stirrup  to  tear  some 
double-colored  leaves  from  an  abele-tree.  Life  is  like  a 
sound  :  perceived  only  some  time  after  it  has  passed. 

Oh,  that  garden  !  those  moss-covered  pathways  around 
the  pond  ;  that  small  gravel  plain  beneath  the  dike, 
where  I  used  to  fish  for  gudgeons  and  loches  ;  and  you, 
the  lofty  birches,  with  your  suspended  reeds,  through 


70  DIARY   OF    A   SUPERFLUOUS       AN. 

which  the  plaintive  song  of  the  peasant  and  the  irregular 
twag  of  the  broken  wheel  of  his  cart  penetrated  from  the 
village  road  :  I  send  you  my  last  farewell  !  Taking 
leave  of  life,  I  extend  my  arms  to  you — to  you  alone  ! 
Oh,  how  I  would  desire  to  breathe  once  more  the  sharp, 
fresh  air  of  our  plains  ;  to  inhale  once  more  the  sweet 
fragrance  of  a  buckwheat  harvest  in  the  fields  of  my 
native  clime  !  How  my  heart  yearns  to  hear  once,  only 
once  more,  the  hoarse  chiming  of  the  cracked  village- 
church  bell  from  the  distance  ;  to  lie  once  more  in  the 
cooling  shadow  of  the  oak  near  the  familiar  declivity  ; 
to  follow  with  my  eyes  the  course  of  the  wind  passing 
swiftly,  like  a  black  wave,  over  the  yellow  grass  of  the 
meadows  ! 

Ah,  why  all  this  ?  But  I  cannot  proeeed  to-day — 
until  to-morrow. 

March  22. 

It  is  cold  and  cloudy  to-day.  Such  weather  is  more 
convenient  ;  it  agrees  better  with  the  nature  of  my 
work.  Yesterday's  weather  aroused  in  me,  quite  un- 
seasonably, a  great  many  unwonted  feelings  and  recol- 
lections. This  shall  never  occur  again.  Sentimental 
outbursts  are  like  licorice  root  :  it  pleases  the  taste  at 
first,  and  leaves  a  nausea  behind  for  a  long  time  after- 
ward. I  shall  now  calmly  and  simply  proceed  with  the 
story  of  my  life. 

And  so  we  went  to  live  in  Moscow.  But  there  occurs 
to  me  the  question,  Is  it  really  worth  while  writing  my 
biography  ?  No.  Positively  not  ! 

The  story  of  my  life  is  not  different  from  that  of  a 
great  many  others.  There  is  the  paternal  home,  the 
university,  service  in  lowly  offices,  handing  in  resigna- 
tions, a  small  circle  of  acquaintances,  whitewashed  pov- 
erty, modest  enjoyments,  humble  employments,  moder- 


DIARY    OF   A    SUPERFLUOUS   MAN".  71 

ate  desires,  and  so  forth.  For  goodness'  sake,  who  does 
not  know  all  this  ?  I  shall,  therefore,  not  write  my  biog- 
raphy. I  am  writing  for  my  own  pleasure,  and  noth- 
ing of  an  extraordinary  character  ever  happened  to  me  ; 
nothing  either  very  pleasant  or  very  sad  that  should  be 
worth  while  recording.  It  would  be  better  if  I  were  to 
analyze  my  own  character. 

What  kind  of  a  person  am  I  ? 

The  remark  might  be  made  here  that  nobody  asks  this 
question  about  me.  I  grant  it.  But  I  am  dying  ;  and 
is  it  not  excusable  if  a  person  tries  to  find  out  before  his 
death  what  kind  of  a  creature  he  is  ? 

Considering  well  this  important  question,  and  having  no 
special  reason  to  use  very  hard  expressions  against  myself 
— -as  is  the  general  practice  of  people  who  are  confident 
of  their  high  significance— I  must  say  that  I  have  been 
quite  a  superfluous  man  in  this  world  ;  or,  if  it  suit  you 
better,  say  a  superfluous  creature.  I  shall  demonstrate 
to-morrow  the  correctness  of  this  assertion.  To-day  I 
am  coughing  like  an  old  sheep,  and  Terentievna,  my 
nurse,  does  not  give  me  a  moment's  rest.  "  Lie  down, 
master,  dear  ;  lie  down,  and  take  some  tea,"  she  insists. 
I  know  why  she  wants  me  to  do  so  ;  she  desires  a  cup  of 
tea  herself.  Well,  for  my  part,  let  her  have  it.  Why 
not  allow  the  poor  old  woman  to  extract  all  possible 
benefit  from  her  master  as  long  as  she  has  the  opportu- 
nity for  it  ? 

March  23. 

Winter  again.  The  snow  falls  in  large  flakes.  Super- 
fluous !  superfluous !  what  an  excellent  word  I  have 
hit  upon.  The  deeper  I  penetrate  into  the  analysis  of 
my  character,  the  more  do  I  become  convinced  of  the 
exactness  of  this  expression.  I  am  superfluous,  of 
course.  To  other  persons  this  designation  does  not 


72  DIARY   OF    A    SUPERFLUOUS   MAN. 

apply.  Other  persons  may  be  good  or  bad,  wise  or 
foolish,  agreeable  or  disagreeable  ;  but  superfluous  peo- 
ple there  are  none.  I  do  not  mean  to  say  that  the 
world  could  not  exist  without  any  of  them  ;  the  world 
could  just  as  well  do  without  them,  but  uselessness  is 
not  their  chief  characteristic  ;  being  superfluous  is  not 
their  distinctive  quality,  and  such  a  designation  will 
never  enter  your  mind  when  you  speak  of  them.  And 
I — what  else  can  be  said  of  me?  "A  superfluous 
man,"  and  that  is  all  ;  "  one  beyond  the  required  num- 
ber," and  nothing  more.  It  appears  as  if  Nature  had 
not  counted  upon  my  coming  into  the  world,  and  in  con- 
sequence thereof,  she  treated  me  as  an  unexpected,  un- 
wanted visitor.  A  witty  fellow,  a  great  lover  of  prefer- 
ence,* once  made  a  very  just  remark,  narrating  some- 
thing about  my  mother.  He  said  :  "  It  happened  be- 
fore you  were  born.  Your  mother  was  at  that  time  only 
burdened  with  you."  I  am  now  speaking  of  myself 
very  calmly,  without  any  bitter  feeling.  Why,  it  is  a 
matter  of  the  past  now. 

During  my  whole  life  I  always  found  my  place  taken  ; 
the  reason  of  it  may  be  that  I  sought  that  place  not 
where  I  ought.  I  was  irritable,  timid,  and  sensitive, 
as  all  sick  persons  are.  There  was  constantly  an  irra- 
tional, inexplicable,  and  insurmountable  barrier  between 
my  thoughts  and  feelings,  and  between  the  expression  of 
the  same  ;  it  was  due  either  to  my  selfishness  or  to  the 
infelicitous  structure  of  my  figure.  Whenever  I  re- 
solved to  overcome  this  difficulty,  to  surmount  this  bar- 
rier, my  motions  and  my  facial  expressions  became  so 
unnatural  that  my  whole  being  assumed  a  perplexing 
awkwardness.  I  not  only  appeared  unnatural  and  stiff, 

*  A  card-play  which  is  very  popular  with  the  better  classes  of  Rus- 
sian society. 


DIARY    OF    A   SUPERFLUOUS    MAN.  73 

but  I  really  was  so.  I  felt  it,  and  hastily  beat  a  retreat. 
But  then  a  fearful  storm  arose  within  me.  I  com- 
menced to  analyze  myself  minutely,  compare  myself 
with  others,  recalled  to  memory  the  most  insignificant 
looks,  smiles,  and  remarks  of  those  before  whom  I 
wished  to  display  myself,  placed  everything  in  the 
worst  light,  frowned  and  laughed  at  my  pretensions  "  to 
be  like  others. "  And  in  the  midst  of  that  laughter  I 
would  suddenly  become  heavy  ;  an  unspeakable  sadness 
would  oppress  my  breast,  and  I  would  recommence 
again  my  speculations  and  criticisms  on  myself.  In 
short,  I  was  turning  like  a  squirrel  in  its  wheel-cage.  I 
used  to  spend  days  and  nights  in  this  tantalizing  and  use- 
less task.  Now,  for  mercy's  sake,  let  any  one  say,  Who 
wants  such  a  person,  and  for  what  use  is  he  in  the  world  ? 
Why  have  such  things  occurred  with  me  ?  What  was 
the  cause  of  this  trifling  strife  with  and  within  myself  ? 
Who  knows  ?  Who  can  tell  ? 

I  remember  I  wa&  once  riding  in  a  stage-coach  to  Mos- 
cow. The  road  was  very  good,  and  the  dri  ver  had  add- 
ed to  the  team  of  four  a  fifth  horse.  This  unhappy 
and  altogether  useless  mare  was  in  some  way  attached  to 
the  forward  part  of  the  vehicle  with  a  short  rope  which 
was  mercilessly  cutting  her  thigh  and  tail,  and  caused 
her  to  run  in  a  most  unnatural  manner,  giving  to  her 
whole  body  the  miserable  appearance  of  a  hanger-on. 
She  aroused  my  deepest  sympathy,  and  I  remarked  to 
•the  driver  that  he  could  well  do  without  a  fifth  horse. 
He  paused  a  second,  shook  his  head,  and  drawing  in  the 
poor  animal  belabored  her  with  his  knout,  remarking, 
not  without  a  frown  : 

"  The  d — 1  knows.     Hung  herself  on,  indeed  !" 
1  am  also  a  hanger-on.     But  it  is  well  the  station  is 
not  far. 


74  DIARY    OF   A    SUPERFLUOUS    MAST. 

Yes,  I  am  superfluous.  1  engaged  to  prove  the  fit- 
ness of  this  term,  and  I  intend  to  keep  my  promise. 
But  I  do  not  consider  it  necessary  to  mention  a  thousand 
trifles  of  every-day  life,  which  might  be  sufficient  to  es- 
tablish my  idea  in  the  mind  of  every  thinking  man.  I 
shall  rather  narrate  one  incident  of  my  life,  which  proves 
how  exactly  the  designation  "  superfluous"  applies  to 
me.  I  cannot,  however,  pass  in  silence  one  very  cu- 
rious and  noteworthy  circumstance  —  namely,  how 
strangely  I  was  treated  by  my  friends  (I  also  had  some 
friends)  when  they  happened  to  meet  me,  or  when  I 
called  on  them.  They  became  uneasy  when  they  saw 
me,  and  when  they  came  to  meet  me  they  smiled  in  an 
unnatural  manner.  They  did  not  look  straight  in  my 
eyes  or  down  to  my  boots,  as  others  do,  but  they  looked 
somehow  past  my  cheek.  They  hastily  shook  hands 
with  me,  hastily  exclaimed,  "Ah,  how  do  you  do, 
Chulkaturin  ?"  (Providence  has  favored  me  with  this 
euphonious  appellation)  ;  or,  "  Ah,  there  is  Chulka- 
turin !"  Then  they  would  step  aside  ;  sometimes  they 
would  pause  as  if  trying  to  recollect  something. 

I  noticed  all  this,  for  Providence  has  not  deprived  me 
of  a  penetrating  and  observing  nature.  In  fact,  I  am 
not  foolish  at  all.  Sometimes  even  very  curious  ideas 
occurred  to  me.  But  as  I  am  a  superfluous  man,  and 
there  being  a  kind  of  a  lock  within  me,  I  was  always 
backward  in  giving  utterance  to  my  ideas,  the  more  so 
since  I  knew  beforehand  that  I  would  express  myself 
very  foolishly.  I  sometimes  even  wondered  how  other 
persons  could  speak  so  easily  and  so  fluently.  "  What  a 
chick  !"  I  thought,  when  I  heard  them,,  I  must  con- 
fess, however,  that  my  tongue  itched  very  often,  not- 
withstanding the  little  lock  within  me,  but  I  actually  in- 
dulged in  the  luxury  of  speaking  only  in  my  childhood. 


DIARY    OF    A    SUPERFLUOUS   MAN.  75 

In  a  riper  age  I  always  mastered  such  desires.  When- 
ever a  desire  to  say  something  arose  within  me,  I  said  to 
iiiy>elf,  "Let  us  rather  be  silent  a  little,"  and  in  this 
manner  I  calmed  myself. 

Our  special  greatness  consists  generally  in  silence. 
Our  women  above  all  make  their  greatest  conquests  with 
their  silence.  A  noble  Russian  maiden  will  sometimes 
maintain  such  a  majestic  silence  that,  no  matter  how  a 
man  might  be  prepared  for  such  a  sight,  he  will  be 
thrown  into  a  cold  perspiration  in  her  august  presence. 
But  I  have  no  business  to  criticise  other  people  ;  I  shall 
proceed  with  my  narrative. 

A  few  years  ago  I  had  occasion  to  spend  a  few  months 

in  the  corporate  town  of  O .  Some  circumstances, 

very  trifling  in  themselves,  but  of  great  importance  to 
me,  were  the  cause  of  it.  This  town  is  built  on  the  de- 
clivity of  a  hill,  in  a  very  inconvenient  manner.  It  con- 
tains about  eight  hundred  inhabitants,  who  live  in  great 
poverty.  The  houses  have  neither  shape  nor  form. 
Threatening  blocks  of  sandstone  start  from  beneath  the 
pavement  of  the  principal  street,  so  that  all  wagons  are 
obliged  to  evade  it.  In  the  middle  of  an  amazingly 
dirty  square,  there  are  some  yellowish  booths  with  dark 
holes,  in  which  there  are  some  men  with  immensely 
large  fur  caps  on  their  heads,  who  assume  the  appear- 
ance of  doing  business.  Near  these  huts  a  very  high 
pole,  painted  with  gay  colors,  is  placed.  Near  that  polo 
stands  a  wagon  of  yellow  hay,  by  order  of  the  authori- 
ties, for  the  sake  of  good  order,  you  know.  So  also  one 
or  two  chickens,  the  property  of  the  authorities,  lounge 
about  there  for  the  same  reason.  In  short,  life  is  very 
gay  in  the  corporate  town  of  O . 

The  first  few  days  of  my  stay  there  I  almost  went 
crazy  with  ennui.  So  much  I  must  say  of  myself,  that 


76  DIARY   OF   A    SUPERFLUOUS   MAN. 

although  I  am  a  superfluous  man,  it  is  not  my  own 
choice  to  be  so.  I  am  sick  myself,  but  I  detest  the 
sight  of  every  sickly  thing.  I  would  not  even  turn 
away  from  happiness — ay,  I  tried  even  to  approach  it 
from  one  side  and  from  the  other.  Well,  no  wonder 
then  that  I  can  feel  "  blue,"  like  all  other  mortals.  I 
was  at  O on  some  official  business. 

Terentievna  has  actually  sworn  to  tantalize  me  to 
death.  Here  is  a  specimen  of  our  dialogue  : 

She.  "  Oh-o-o,  master  dear,  why  do  you  write  so 
much  ?" 

7.   "  I  feel  blue,  Terentievna." 

She.  "  You  had  better  take  a  few  cups  of  tea  and  lie 
down.  God  granting,  you  will  perspire  a  little  and  fall 
asleep." 

7.   "  But  I  do  not  want  to  sleep." 

She.  "  Oh,  master  dear,  how  can  you  say  so?  Lie 
down,  lie  down,  it  will  do  you  good." 

7.   "I  shall  die  anyhow,  Terentievna." 

She.  "  God  have  mercy  !  Well,  then,  do  you  order 
some  tea  ?" 

7.   "I  will  not  live  one  week  more. ' ' 

She.  "  Oh-o-o,  oh,  oh  !  How  can  you  speak  like 
that,  master  dear  ?  I  will  go  and  put  on  the  tea- 
kettle." 

Oh,  feeble,  yellow,  toothless  creature  !  Am  I  nobody 
even  for  thee  ? 

March  24 — A  strong  frost. 

By  reason  of  the  official  business  which  brought  me 

to  O ,  I  called  on  a  certain  Mr.  Ojogin  the  very  day 

of  my  arrival.  Mr.  Ojogin — Kirrilla  Matveyevitch  was 
his  Christian  name — occupied  an  important  position. 
About  a  fortnight  after  my  introduction  I  became  well 
acquainted  with  him.  His  house  stood  on  the  principal 


DIARY   OF  A   SUPERFLUOUS   MAN.  77 

thoroughfare  of  the  town  and  was  distinguishable  from 
all  other  houses  by  its  enormous  size,  its  painted  roof, 
and  by  two  lions  that  were  stationed  at  its  gates.  The 
lions  were  of  the  genus  that  has  a  striking  resemblance 
to  crippled  dogs  ;  their  native  land  is  Moscow.  The 
lions  alone  were  sufficient  evidence  that  their  owner  was 
an  opulent  man.  Mr.  Ojogin  owned  about  four  hundred 

serfs.     The  best  society  of  O called  at  his  house, 

and  he  was  reputed  a  hospitable  man. 

Among  the  visitors  of  Mr.  Ojogin  were  the  following 
gentlemen  :  The  administrator  of  the  town,  a  gentle- 
man of  vast  proportions,  whose  appearance  reminded 
one  of  a  coat  which  has  been  cut  out  of  cheap  material  ; 
he  used  to  come  in  a  buggy  drawn  by  a  pair  of  dirty- 
colored  horses  ;  the  attorney-general,  a  yellowish,  ill- 
natured  little  creature  ;  the  surveyor,  a  witty  gentleman 
of  German  extraction,  with  a  Moorish  face  ;  an  officer 
of  the  connection  roads'  department,  a  tender  soul — a 
singer,  but  a  fearful  gossipper  ;  the  ex -governor  of  the 
district,  a  gentleman  witli  dyed  hair,  a  crumpled  shirt- 
front,  pantaloons  with  straps,  and  with  that  most  noble 
facial  expression  which  is  generally  procured  by  a  pro- 
tracted career  through  the  courts  of  justice  ;  finally, 
there  were  two  land-owners,  inseparable  friends.  The 
last  were  both  elderly  men,  but  the  junior  of  them  ex- 
ercised great  control  over  his  senior.  He  always  made 
him  hold  his  peace  by  force  of  one  and  the  same  remark  : 
"  You  had  better  hold  your  tongue,  Sergey  Sergeye- 
vitch,"  he  would  say,  when  the  other  attempted  to 
speak.  "  How  can  you  desire  to  express  an  opinion,  since 
you  do  not  even  know  how  to  write  the  word  cork  f 
Yes,  gentlemen,"  he  would  add,  addressing  the  com- 
pany, "  Sergey  Sergey evitch  spells  the  word  with  a  g  • 
he  writes  it  gork  ;"  and  all  present  would  commence  to 


78  DIARY   OF   A    SUPERFLUOUS   MAW. 

g 

laugh,  although  I  could  not  say  whether  there  were  any 
among  them  well  skilled  in  the  art  of  orthography.  The 
poor  Sergey  Sergeyevitch  would  then  become  silent,  and 
incline  his  head,  with  a  feeble  smile. 

But  I  forget  that  my  time  is  too  limited  for  such 
minute  descriptions.  To  be  brief,  Ojogin  was  a  mar- 
ried man  :  he  had  a  daughter,  Elizabetta  Kirrilovna  by 
name,  and  I  fell  in  love  with  that  daughter  of  his. 
Ojogin  himself  was  a  man  of  the  general  run  ;  neither 
good  nor  bad.  His  wife  was  somewhat  like  an  over- 
aged  chicken.  But  their  daughter  was  unlike  either  of 
them.  She  was  very  pretty,  and  of  a  lively  but  tender 
temperament.  Her  bright  gray  eyes  beamed  kindly  and 
looked  straight  forward  from  beneath  her  childishly  ele- 
vated brows.  She  always  smiled,  and  very  often  in- 
dulged in  a  hearty  laugh.  Her  fresh,  youthful  voice 
sounded  very  agreeably,  her  motions  were  easy  and 
quick,  and  when  she  blushed  there  was  an  air  of  merri- 
ment about  her.  She  dressed  herself  not  very  extrava- 
gantly— i-imple  dresses  became  her  best. 

I  was  always  slow  in  making  acquaintances,  and  if  I 
felt  easy  in  the  presence  of  a  new  acquaintance  (which, 
however,  happened  very  seldom),  this  spoke  highly  in 
favor  of  that  person.  But  I  never  knew  how  to  treat 
ladies.  In  their  presence  I  made  either  sour  or  very  wry 
faces,  or  I  grinned  in  the  most  foolish  manner,  and 
chewed  my  tongue  in  confusion.  But  with  Elizabetta 
Kirrilovna  I  felt  at  home  the  very  first  time  I  met  her. 
This  is  how  it  happened  : 

I  once  called  on  Ojogin  in  the  forenoon.  I  asked 
whether  he  was  at  home,  and  was  informed  that  he  was 
just  dressing,  and  was  requested  to  wait  for  him  in  the 
parlor.  I  entered  the  parlor  and  saw  a  young  lady 
dressed  in  white  standing  with  her  face  toward  the  win- 


DIARY    OF   A    SUPERFLUOUS   MAN.  79 

dow,  and  with  a  bird's  cage  in  her  hand.  I  became  a 
little  agitated  as  usual,  but  I  made  an  effort  and  coughed 
slightly  by  way  of  announcing  my  presence.  The  young 
lady  turned  quickly,  so  quickly  that  her  long  curls 
struck  her  in  the  face,  and  noticing  me,  she  made  a 
courtesy  ;  showing  me  a  small  box  half  filled  with  grains, 
she  said,  with  a  smile  : 

"  You  have  no  objection  ?" 

I,  of  course,  according  to  the  custom  of  politeness,  in- 
clined my  head,  and  at  the  same  time  quickly  bent  and 
straightened  out  my  knees,  as  though  somebody  had 
struck  me  in  the  joints  from  behind,  which  motion  is 
well  known  to  be  a  sign  of  good  education  and  of  an 
agreeable  and  social  disposition  ;  then  I  smiled,  and 
waved  my  hand  once  or  twice  in  the  air. 

The  young  lady  immediately  turned  away,  took  out  of 
the  cage  a  small  board,  began  to  scrub  it  energetically 
•with  a  knife,  and  without  changing  her  position,  said  to 
me  : 

"  This  is  my  father's  redfinch.  Do  you  like  red- 
finches  ?" 

"  I  prefer  aberdevines,"  I  rejoined,  not  without  an 
effort. 

"  I  also  like  aberdevines.  But  look  at  this  one — is  he 
not  a  beauty  ?  Come,  look  at  him  ;  don't  be  afraid," 
she  continued,  while  I  was  wondering  why  she  was  not 
afraid  of  me.  "  Step  nearer  and  look  at  him.  His 
name  is  Popka. " 

I  stepped  nearer  and  bowed  down  to  the  bird. 

"  Is  he  not  lovely  ?"  she  exclaimed,  turning  to  me. 

"We  stood  so  near  each  other  that  she  had  to  throw  her 
head  back  in  order  to  look  at  me.  I  looked  at  her  feat- 
ures. Her  whole  young,  rosy,  well-rounded  face  smiled 
so  heartily  that  I  could  not  help  responding  with  a  smile, 


80  DIAHY    OF    A    SUPERFLUOUS    MAX. 

and  could  hardly  control  myself  so  as  not  to  laugh  for 
pleasure  looking  at  her. 

The  door  opened,  and  Mr.  Ojogin  entered  the  room. 
I  immediately  began  to  converse  with  him  very  gayly. 
I  do  not  know  how  it  happened,  but  I  stayed  there  for 
dinner,  and  remained  until  late  in  the  evening.  When 
I  again  called  on  the  Ojogins  the  next  day,  their  foot- 
man, a  dry-boned  fellow  with  weak  eyes,  smiled  to  me 
as  to  a  house-friend,  while  he  helped  me  out  of  my 
overcoat. 

As  a  superfluous  man,  having  no  recollection  of  a 
peaceful,  domestic  life,  I  had  never  yet  thought  of  the 
happiness  of  having  a  nest  of  my  own,  of  the  felicity 
of  daily  intercourse  and  association  with  a  person  whose 
interests  and  habits  should  be  intertwined  with  those  of 
my  own.  If  there  "was  anything  in  me  similar  to  a 
flower,  and  if  it  were  not  such  a  hackneyed  metaphor,  I 
would  say  that  I  blossomed  since  the  first  day  of  my 
acquaintance  with  Liza.  Everything  within  and  around 
me  assumed  a  new  aspect.  My  whole  life  became 
bright  with  love — yes,  my  whole  life.  Like  a  dark  and 
deserted  room  in  which  a  candle  has  been  suddenly 
lighted,  so  my  life  became  bright  all  of  a  sudden.  I 
went  to  bed,  ate  my  meals,  smoked  my  pipe — in  short, 
I  did  everything  in  a  manner  quite  different  from  that  1 
had  ever  had  before  ;  even  my  step  became  lighter  than 
usual,  as  if  I  had  wings  grown  on  my  shoulders. 

I  was  not  for  a  moment  in  doubt  with  regard  to  the 
sentiment  aroused  in  me  by  Elizabetta  Kirrilovna.  I 
fell  desperately  in  love  with  her  the  first  time  I  saw 
her,  and  I  knew  forthwith  that  I  was  in  love.  For 
three  weeks  I  met  her  every  day.  These  three  weeks 
were  the  happiest  in  my  life,  but  the  recollection  of 
them  is  heavy,  very  heavy  indeed.  I  cannot  think  of 


DIARY   OF   A   SUPERFLUOUS   MAN.  81 

them  alone.  With  the  recollection  of  those  happy  days, 
all  that  subsequently  occurred  conies  to  my  mind,  and 
my  heart,  which  begins  to  soften  at  the  memory  of 
happiness,  becomes  oppressed  with  the  weight  of  mis* 
fortune  that  succeeded  it. 

It  is  a  well-known  fact  that  when  a  person  feels  very 
good  his  brains  work  very  little.  A  quiet  and  gladsome 
feeling,  a  feeling  of  satisfaction,  penetrates  his  whole 
being ;  it  masters  him  entirely,  and  his  individuality 
becomes  lost  in  it;  "he  is  in  felicity,"  as  the  badly- 
educated  poets  express  themselves.  But  when  at  last 
"  the  minutes  of  enchantment''  pass  away,  he  sometimes 
feels  sorry  that  he  thought  so  little  in  the  time  of  happi- 
ness, that  he  did  not  by  consideration  and  reflection  aug- 
ment that  "felicity;"  as  if  a  man  "in  felicity"  ever 
had  time  to  stop  and  think,  or  as  though  it  were  worth 
his  while  to  do  so.  A  man  "  in  felicity"  is  like  unto  a 
fly  which  is  basking  in  sunlight. 

This  is  the  reason  why  I  cannot  find  in  my  memory 
any  clear  and  definite  idea  of  the  impression  love  had 
made  upon  me  ;  and,  besides  this,  nothing  noteworthy 
had  passed  between  us  during  that  time.  These  twenty 
days  appear  Tinto  me  like  some  warm,  young,  fragrant 
feeling — like  a  bright  streak  in  my  sombre  gray  life. 
But  my  memory  becomes  mercilessly  exact  and  clear 
when  1  think  of  the  time  "  the  blasts  of  misfortune 
began  to  fall  upon  my  head,"  speaking  in  the  language 
of  the  same  badly-educated  poets. 

Yes,  those  three  weeks  !  But  I  cannot  say  that  they 
have  left  in  my  memory  no  images  whatever.  Some- 
times when  I  think  of  them  for  a  long  time,  some  recol- 
lections swim  out  of  the  dim  past,  just  like  new  stars  ap- 
pear in  the  firmament  to  a  person  whose  eyes  are  assid- 
uously fixed  on  one  spot.  I  remember  especially  one 


82  DIARY    OF    A    SUPERFLUOUS    MAX. 

walk  we  took  together  in  a  forest.  Our  company  con- 
sisted of  four  persons  :  Mrs.  Ojogin,  Liza,  I,  and  a  cer- 
tain fourth  or  fifth  rate  officer  at  the  town  of  O ,  a 

fair-complexioned,  good-natured,  and  quiet  little  man — 
Bizmenkoff  by  name.  I  shall  have  to  speak  of  him 
hereafter  in  my  story.  Mr.  Ojogin  himself  was  not  of 
the  party.  He  had  taken  a  long  nap  in  the  hot  after- 
noon, got  a  headache,  and  could  not  go  out.  It  was  a 
beautiful  day,  the  air  was  quiet  and  clear. 

I  must  remark  here  that  public  gardens  do  not  agree 
with  the  spirit  of  the  Russian  people.  In  the  so-called 
public  gardens  of  the  large  cities,  you  will  never  meet  a 
living  soul,  except,  perhaps,  sometimes  a  coughing  and 
groaning  old  woman  sitting  on  a  green  bench,  near  a 
sickly  tree,  to  rest  herself  ;  but  even  she  would  not  be 
there  if  there  was  near  by  a  dirty  little  bench  at  the  gate 
of  some  house.  But  if  there  is  in  the  neighborhood  of  a 
town  a  small  forest  of  birch-trees,  all  the  merchants, 
sometimes  even  the  official  dignitaries  of  that  place,  are 
sure  to  turn  out  thither  on  Sundays  arid  holidays. 
They  will  take  along  their  tea-kettles,  cakes,  and  squash 
gourds,  lay  out  all  these  blessings  on  the  dusty  grass, 
right  near  the  road,  and  eat  and  drink  tea,  in  the  ssveat 
of  their  countenances,  until  nightfall. 

Just  such  a  forest  existed  in  the  vicinity  of  O , 

about  two  versts  distant  from  the  town.  Thither  our 
company  repaired  after  dinner.  We  sat  down  and 
drank  our  tea — as  the  custom  is — and  afterward  went  for 
a  stroll  in  the  forest.  Bizmenkoff  gave  his  arm  to  Mrs. 
Ojogin,  and  I  escorted  Liza.  The  day  was  beginning  to 
decline.  I  was  then  in  the  very  heat  of  first  love.  (It 
was  about  a  fortnight  after  I  had  made  her  acquaint- 
ance.) I  was  in  that  state  of  passionate  adoration  when 
the  soul  of  the  lover  follows  instinctively  and  umvit- 


DIARY   OF   A    SUPERFLUOUS   MAN.  83 

tingly  after  the  slightest  motion  of  his  beloved  ;  when 
he  cannot  have  enough  of  her  presence,  cannot  hear 
enough  of  her  voice  ;  when  he  is  constantly  smiling  like 
a  child  that  is  just  recovering  from  a  protracted  sick- 
ness, and  a  man  of  any  experience  in  the  world  can 
divine  at  the  first  glance  what  is  going  on  within  him. 
Before  that  day  I  never  had  had  the  opportunity  of 
holding  Liza's  arm. 

I  was  walking  with  her,  stepping  lightly  on  the  green 
grass.  A  slight  breeze  was  moving  around  us  from 
between  the  stems  of  the  lofty  birches,  at  times  throw- 
ing the  ribbons  of  her  hat  into  my  face.  I  diligently 
followed  the  motions  of  her  eyes  until  she  turned  them 
toward  me  cheerfully,  and  we  both  smiled  to  one  an- 
other. The  birds  chirped  approvingly  over  us,  and  the 
blue  sky  glimpsed  kindly  on  us  from  between  the  thin 
foliage.  My  head  was  dizzy  from  too  much  pleasure. 

I  hasten  to  remark  that  Liza  was  not  in  love  with  me 
at  all.  She  liked  me,  as  she  generally  was  not  timid  with 
strangers,  but  I  was  not  the  person  to  trouble  her  child- 
ish heart.  She  held  me  by  the  arm  as  she  would  hold  a 
brother.  She  was  then  seventeen  years  old.  And  yet, 
that  very  evening,  and  before  my  own  eyes,  there  arose 
within  her  that  deep  and  secret  yearning  which  betokens 
the  changing  of  a  girl  into  a  woman.  I  witnessed  this 
changing  of  her  whole  being  ;  this  innocent  uncertainty  ; 
this  restless  thonghtfulness.  I  was  the  first  to  notice  the 
sudden,  harmonious  change  of  her  voice  ;  and,  fool  that 
I  am  !  superfluous  being  that  I  am  !  for  a  whole  week 
afterward  1  was  not  ashamed  to  imagine  that  I  was  the 
cause  of  all  that  change.  Here  is  how  it  happened  : 

We  were  walking  for  some  time  and  speaking  very 
little  to  one  another.  I  was  silent,  like  all  inexperienced 
lovers  are,  and  she — probably  because  she  had  nothing 


84  DIARY    OF   A    SUPERFLUOUS    MAX. 

to  tell  me.  But  it  seemed  as  though  she  were  thinking 
of  something.  She  shook  her  head  in  a  peculiar 
manner,  and  thoughtfully  chewed  a  reed  which  she  had 
broken  on  the  way.  At  times  she  would  begin  to  walk 
ahead  energetically,  and  then  she  would  stand  still  wait 
ing  for  me  and  looking  around,  smiling  thoughtfully. 
The  night  previous  I  read  to  her  "  The  Captive  of  Cau- 
casia."* How  eagerly  she  listened  to  me  ;  her  head  re- 
clined on  the  palms  of  both  hands,  and  her  breast  press- 
ing to  the  table.  I  began  to  speak  about  last  night's 
reading.  She  blushed,  asked  me  whether  I  had  not  for- 
gotten to  give  the  finch  some  hemp-seed,  commenced  in 
a  loud  voice  some  lively  little  song,  and  then  all  at  once 
became  silent. 

The  forest  terminated  on  the  top  of  a  steep  hill,  at  the 
foot  of  which  was  a  small  winding  river,  and  on  the 
other  side  of  the  river  there  were  vast  meadows,  ex- 
tending far,  far  in  the  hazy  distance — as  far  as  the  eyes 
could  reach.  At  some  places,  beautiful  elevations  were 
to  be  seen,  just  like  waves  on  a  quiet  pond,  caused  by  a 
slight  breath  of  wind  ;  at  others,  the  ground  was  lying 
like  a  rich  unrolled  carpet,  variegated  with  the  freshest 
and  sweetest  of  flowers,  and  at  times  interspersed  with 
narrow  drains  filled  with  clear  water.  Liza  and  I  arrived 
at  the  end  of  the  forest  a  few  minutes  before  our  com- 
panions. Emerging  from  the  woods  we  were  both  daz- 
zled with  the  beauty  of  the  scene.  Before  us,  in  the 
midst  of  the  glowing  mist,  was  the  setting  sun  like  a 
ball  of  tire.  The  horizon  was  playing  with  all  shades  of 
red,  sending  scarlet  rays  obliquely  on  the  meadows  be- 
fore us,  crimsoning  the  shady  sides  of  the  eminences, 
and  falling  like  fiery  lead  even  on  the  waters.  It  seemed 
as  though  all  the  rays  of  the  sun  were  directed  against 
*  This  is  one  of  the  best  poems  of  Pushkin. 


DIARY   OF   A   SUPERFLUOUS   MAN".  85 

the  hill  on  which  we  stood,  and  against  the  wood  from 
which  we  emerged.  "We  stood  there,  so  to  say,  bathing 
in  a  blazing  stream  of  light. 

I  am  not  able  to  depict  the  solemn  magnificence  of 
that  scene.  It  is  said  of  a  blind  person  that  the  red 
colors  had  the  same  effect  upon  him  when  he  touched 
them  as  the  sound  of  a  trumpet  has  on  the  ear.  I  do 
not  know  how*  much  truth  there  is  in  that  statement  ; 
but  really  there  was  something  soul-stirring  in  the  sight 
of  that  inflamed  evening  sky,  in  that  crimsoning  lustre 
of  heaven  and  earth.  I  shouted  in  ecstasy  and  looked  at 
Liza  ;  she  was  looking  at  the  sun,  and  that  burning  ball 
was  reflected  in  her  eyes  by  two  fiery  sparks.  She  was 
affected  by  the  sight  ;  her  heart  was  throbbing  with 
emotion.  But  she  did  not  respond  to  my  exclama- 
tion. She  stood  motionless,  with  her  head  inclined 
to  the  ground.  I  looked  at  her  in  silent  amazement  and 
full  of  delight.  I  extended  my  hand  to  her,  but  she 
turned  away,  and  tears  appeared  in  her  eyes. 

Bizmenkoff's  voice  was  heard  within  a  few  steps  of 
us.  Liza  hastily  wiped  her  tears  and  turned  to  me  with 
a  timid  smile.  Mrs.  Ojogin  came  out  of  the  forest  sup- 
ported by  the  arm  of  her  fair-complexioned  escort  ;  they 
also  admired  the  view  that  was  before  us.  The  old 
woman  asked  Liza  something,  and  I  remember  that  I 
shivered  slightly  when  1  heard  her  answer  with  an  un- 
certain, hoarse  voice,  like  that  of  a  cracked  glass.  In 
the  mean  time  the  sun  disappeared,  the  evening  ap- 
proached, we  repaired  homeward,  and  I  offered  my  arm 
to  Liza.  There  was  yet  light  enough  so  that  I  could 
clearly  see  her  features.  She  seemed  to  be  troubled, 
and  did  not  raise  her  eyes.  Her  cheeks  were  glowing 
as  if  the  rays  of  the  setting  sun  were  yet  directed  toward 
her  ;  her  hand  rested  lightly  on  my  arm.  I  could  not 


86  DIARY  OF  A   SUPERFLUOUS   MAN. 

converse  for  a  long  while,  so  great  was  my  emotion. 
Our  carriage  appeared  between  the  trunks  of  the  trees  ; 
the  driver  slowly  came  toward  us  ;  we  could  hear  the 
wheels  grating  in  the  sand. 

"  Lizabetta  Kirrilovna,"  said  I  at  last,  "why  did 
you  begin  to  cry  ?" 

"  I  do  not  know,"  she  rejoined,  after  a  moment's 
silence,  and  looked  at  me  with  her  soft,- gray  eyes,  yet 
wet  with  tears.  It  seemed  to  me  that  the  expression  of 
those  eyes  was  entirely  changed. 

"  I  see  you  love  nature,"  I  continued.  I  could  hardly 
pronounce*  these  few  words,  so  great  was  my  emotion, 
but  this  was  not  what  I  wanted  to  say.  She  silently 
nodded  her  head  by  way  of  assent.  I  could  not  speak 
one  word  more.  I  inwardly  expected  something.  Not 
for  a  confession  of  love — how  so  ?  I  waited  for  a  con- 
fiding glance,  for  a  question — but  Liza  looked  to  the 
ground  and  was  silent.  I  muttered  again,  "  Why  ?" 
and  received  no  answer.  I  noticed  that  she  felt  uneasy, 
almost  ashamed.  Fifteen  minutes  afterward  we  were 
all  sitting  in  the  carriage.  Our  horses  were  trotting 
lightly  on  the  road,  and  we  moved  through  the  darken- 
ing, moist  air  toward  the  town.  I  suddenly  became 
very  garrulous,  spoke  much  to  Bizmenkoff,  to  Mrs. 
Ojogin,  and  did  not  look  at  Liza  ;  but  I  noticed  that 
she  did  not  glance  at  me  a  single  time  from  her  corner  in 
the  carriage.  At  home  she  roused  herself  a  little,  but 
refused  to  read  with  me,  and  went  to  bed  early.  That 
crisis — the  crisis  of  which  I  spoke  before — had  passed 
on  her  ;  she  ceased  to  be  a  girl,  and  like  myself  com- 
menced to  expect  something.  But  she  had  not  long  to 
wait. 

I  returned  home  that  night  all  enchanted.  There  was 
at  first  a  faint  feeling  in  my  breast  akin  to  an  evil  pre- 


DIARY    OF    A   SUPERFLUOUS    MAN.  87 

sentiment  or  suspicion  ;  but  it  soon  vanished.  The  stiff 
deportment  of  Liza  toward  me  I  ascribed  to  maidenly 
bashfulness  and  timidity.  Had  not  I  read  in  a  thousand 
novels  that  the  first  feeling  of  love  in  a  maiden  fright- 
ens and  confuses  her  at  its  generation  ?  I  felt  very 
happy,  and  began  to  make  plans  for  the  future. 

If  somebody  had  then  whispered  in  my  ear  :  "  Non- 
sense, my  friend,  that  is  not  what  is  destined  for  you. 
Your  destination  is  to  die  lonesome,  in  a  shattered  little 
house,  compelled  to  listen  to  the  husky  raillery  of  an  old 
peasant  woman,  who  will  be  anxiously  waiting  for  your 
death,  in  order  that  she  shall  be  at  liberty  to  sell  your 
boots  for  a  few  kopecks. "  Yes,  unwittingly  the  words 
of  a  great  Kussian  philosopher  come  to  my  mind,  "  How 
shall  a  person  know  what  he  does  not  know  ?" 

Until  to-morrow. 

March  25 — A  white  winter  day. 

I  read  over  what  I  wrote  yesterday,  and  felt  like  tear- 
ing up  the  manuscript.  It  seems  to  me  that  my  narra- 
tive is  written  too  circumstantially,  and  in  too  sweet  a 
style.  But  as  the  succeeding  events  I  propose  to  narrate 
are  akin  to  those  of  which  "Lermontoff  expresses  himself 
so  well — u  It  is  both  joyous  and  painful  to  touch  the  old 
scars" — why  should  not  I  allow  myself  this  painful 
pleasure  ?  It  is  true,  a  person  must  keep  himself  within 
certain  bounds.  I  shall,  therefore,  proceed  without  affec- 
tation. 

For  a  whole  week  after  our  walk  in  the  forest,  my 
condition  did  not  change,  although  in  Liza  the  change 
was  more  noticeable  every  day.  I  explained  the  last 
circumstance  to  my  advantage.  The  misfortune  of  iso- 
lated and  timid  persons — timid  because  of  their  great 
selfishness — consists  in  this  :  that  they  never  see  a  thing 
in  its  true  light,  no  matter  how  sharp-sighted  they  are, 


88  DIARY    OF   A    SUPERFLUOUS    MAN. 

and  how  they  may  fix  their  eyes  on  one  object.  It  is  as 
if  they  were  looking  through  colored  spectacles.  Their 
own  thoughts  and  observations  hinder  them  on  every 
side.  Since  our  acquaintance,  Liza's  conduct  toward  me 
was  childish  and  confiding.  It  may  be  even  that  she 
felt  a  kind  of  childish  attachment  toward  me.  But 
when  that  strange  change  had  occurred  with  her,  she 
began  to  feel  somewhat  uneasy  in  my  presence  ;  she 
often  turned  away  from  me  unwillingly,  with  an  expres- 
sion of  sadness  and  thoughtfulness  in  her  eyes.  She 
was,  so  to  say,  in  a  state  of  expectation,  not  knowing 
herself  what  she  expected.  And  I  was  glad  to  observe 
that  change  in  her.  I  almost  choked  with  joy  !  I  must 
admit,  however,  that  any  other  person  in  my  place 
would  have  been  deceived  by  the  same  illusion  ;  for 
who  is  devoid  of  conceit  ? 

It  is  not  necessary  to  add  that  I  did  not  understand 
the  true  nature  of  -  my  position  for  some  time  ;  my 
phantasy  had  been  soaring  high  until  it  burst  like  a 
bubble.  The  misunderstanding  between  me  and  Liza 
lasted  for  about  a  week,  and  there  is  nothing  wonderful 
in  it.  I  have  had  occasion  to  observe  misunderstandings 
which  lasted  for  years.  And  who  says  that  only  the 
truth  is  real  ?  The  lie  exists  as  well  as,  if  not  better 
than,  the  truth.  I  have  a  faint  recollection  that  some 
kind  of  misgiving  had  arisen  in  my  mind  even  at  that 
time  ;  but  one  of  our  class — isolated  men — is  as  unable 
to  judge  about  what  is  going  on  within  him  as  he  is  un- 
able to  judge  about  what  is  transpiring  before  his  eyes. 

Besides  that,  is  love  a  natural  feeling  ?  Does  love 
enter  in  the  normal  condition  of  life  ?  No.  Love  is  a 
sickness,  and  there  are  no  laws  for  sickness.  Suppose 
my  heart  did  feel  a  little  oppressed  at  that  time  ?  Have 
not  my  sentiments  been  confused  ?  And  how  in  the 


DIAKY    OF   A    SUPERFLUOUS    MAN".  81) 

world  could  I  judge  about  one  momentary  feeling, 
whether  it  meant  for  good  or  for  evil—  what  was  its 
cause  and  what  its  significance  ?  But  however  the  case 
may  have  been  with  the  philosophical  question  concern- 
ing my  presentiments,  feelings,  and  misconceptions,  they 
were  soon  to  be  dispelled,  and  I  had  to  leam  the  real 
value  of  them  all  in  the  following  manner  : 

One  morning,  entering  the  Ojogins'  house,  I  heard  an 
unfamiliar  but  sonorous  voice  speaking  in  the  parlor. 
While  I  was  taking  off  my  overcoat  in  the  hall,  the  door 
of  the  parlor  opened,  and  out  came  a  young  man  about 
twenty-five  years  of  age,  with  a  very  fine  figure,  accom- 
panied by  the  host.  He  hastily  took  off  his  military 
cloak  that  was  hanging  on  the  hat-stand,  shook  hands 
with  Kirrilla  Matveyevitch,  and  passing  me,  he  hurriedly 
but  politely  touched  the  brim  of  his  cap,  and  went  off, 
clinking  with  his  spurs. 

"  Who  is  that  ?"  I  asked  Mr.  Ojogin. 

"  Prince  N ,"  he  answered  with  a  thoughtful  air  ; 

"  sent  from  St,  Petersburg  to  take  in  charge  the  troop 
of  new  recruits  But  where  are  all  the  people  here  ?" 
he  added,  with  displeasure.  "  There  was  not  a  person 
here  even  to  hand  him  his  cloak." 

u  Is  it  long  since  he  has  been  here  ?"  I  asked  again. 

"lie  arrived  last  evening.  I  offered  him  a  room  in 
my  house,  but  he  refused  to  accept  it.  He  seems  to  be 
a  very  fine  fellow. ' ' 

"  Has  he  been  in  your  house  long  ?" 

"  About  an  hour  or  so.  He  desired  to  make  the  ac- 
quaintance of  Mrs.  Ojogin." 

"  Have  you  introduced  him  ?" 

"Of  course." 

"  And  Elizabetta  Kirrilovna  ?" 

"  He  made  her  acquaintance  too." 


90  DIARY   OF   A    SUPERFLUOUS    MAX. 

I  paused  a  moment. 

"  How  long  is  he  going  to  stay  here  ?"  I  asked  again. 

"  About  three  or  four  weeks,  I  should  think,"  was 
the  answer  ;  and  Kirrilla  Matveyevitch  ran  off  to  dress 
herself. 

I  began  to  walk  to  and  fro  in  the  parlor.  I  do  not 

remember  that  the  appearance  of  Prince  IS" made 

any  special  impression  on  me,  except  that  it  arouced 
within  me  a  feeling  akin  to  that  which  people  generally 
perceive  when  a  stranger  is  unexpectedly  introduced  into 
their  family  circle.  It  may  be  that  together  with  this 
feeling  there  was  also  a  kind  of  envy  like  that  of  a  timo- 
rous and  insignificant  native  of  Moscow  before  a  brilliant 
army  officer  of  St.  Petersburg. 

"  A  prince  !"  I  thought  ;  "  a  specimen  of  the  capi- 
tal !  He  will  look  at  us  from  on  high. ' ' 

I  saw  him  for  one  minute  only,  and  had  occasion  to 
notice  that  he  was  good-looking,  easy,  and  graceful. 

Having  paced  the  room  a  number  of  times.  I  stopped 
before  the  mirror,  drew  out  of  my  pocket  a  small  comb 
and  fixed  my  hair,  giving  it  a  poetically  negligent  ap- 
pearance. As  often  happens,  I  began  to  make  obser- 
vations on  my  countenance  in  the  looking-glass.  My 
especial  notice,  I  remember,  was  concentrated  on  my 
nose.  I  was  always  dissatisfied  with  the  softness  and 
the  undecided  lineaments  of  that  member.  Suddenly  I 
noticed  in  the  dark  background  of  the  mirror  that  a  door 
opened,  and  Liza's  straight  figure  appeared  in  it.  I  do 
not  know  why,  but  I  did  not  change  my  position  or  the 
expression  of  my  face.  Liza  put  her  head  into  the 
room,  looked  attentively  at  me,  and  raising  her  eye- 
brows and  drawing  in  her  under-lip  like  a  person  who  is 
pleased  at  remaining  unnoticed,  she  very  cautiously  drew 
herself  back  and  quietly  drew  the  door  after  her.  The 


DIARY    OF   A    SUPERFLUOUS   MAN.  91 

door  creaked  slightly.  Liza  stopped  for  an  instant.  I 
did  not  move.  She  finally  closed  it  and  disappeared. 

There  was  nothing  to  doubt  after  this.  The  expres- 
sion of  Liza's  face  when  she  saw  my  figure  meant 
nothing  else  than  a  desire  to  be  off  fortunately  to  avoid 
an  unpleasant  meeting.  The  sudden  spark  of  pleasure  in 
her  eyes  when  she  thought  I  had  not  noticed  her, 
showed  plainly  that  she  did  not  love  me.  I  looked  at 
the  closed  door  for  a  long,  long  time  ;  it  appeared  in  the 
background  of  the  mirror  like  a  bleak  spot. 

I  desired  to  laugh  at  my  own  stiif  figure,  but  I  bowed 
my  head,  went  home,  and  threw  myself  on  the  sofa.  I 
felt  much  oppressed — so  oppressed  that  I  could  not  even 
weep.  And  what  had  I  to  weep  for  ?  Lying  there  like 
dead  on  my  back,  with  hands  folded  on  my  breast,  I  ex- 
claimed aii  innumerable  number  of  times,  "  Is  that  so  ? 
Is  that  so  ?"  How  does  the  reader  like  this  query  ? 

March  26— A  thaw. 

The  next  day  when  I  entered  the  familiar  parlor  of 
Ojogin  with  a  palpitating  heart,  and  after  a  long  strug- 
gle with  myself,  I  was  no  longer  the  man  they  had 
known  for  the  last  three  weeks.  All  my  old  whims, 
which  I  had  abandoned  under  the  influence  of  the  new 
feeling  that  had  been  generated  in  my  heart,  had  sud- 
denly returned  to  me  and  had  taken  hold  of  my  whole 
being,  like  the  owners  of  a  house  returning  into  it 
after  a  short  absence.  Persons  like  myself  generally  do 
not  act  according  to  existing  facts,  but  according  to  con- 
ceived impressions.  Only  the  day  before,  I  had  been 
filled  with  sweet  anticipations  of  mutual  love,  and  to- 
day I  was  in  despair  on  account  of  my  misfortunes, 
although  I  could  not  have  had  any  reasonable  cause  for 
either  of  these  feelings.  I  could  not  possibly  be  jealous 


92  DIARY    OF   A    SUPERFLUOUS    MAN. 

of  Prince  N ;  no  matter  how  great  his  merits,  his 

appearance  alone  was  not  sufficient  to  destroy  Liza's 
good  disposition  toward  me.  But  had  there  ever  been 
such  a  good  disposition  ?  I  recalled  to  memory  the  in- 
cidents of  the  past. 

"  And  the  walk  in  the  forest  ?"  1  asked  myself. 

"  And  the  sight  in  the  mirror  ?"  I  retorted. 

"  But  that  evening,  it  seems — " 

I  could  not  continue. 

"  Gracious  me  !"  I  exclaimed  at  last  ;  "  what  a-use- 
less  being  I  am,  anyhow  !" 

Such  unfinished  thoughts  and  sentiments  had  been 
whirling  in  my  head.  In  short,  I  entered  the  house  of 
Ojogin  the  same  irritable,  suspicious,  and  stiff  person  1 
have  been  since  my  childhood. 

I  found  the  whole  family  assembled  in  the  parlor,  and 
Bizrnerikoff,  too,  sitting  there  in  a  corner.  They  all 
seemed  to  be  in  good  spirits,  especially  Ojogin  himself, 
who  was  beaming  with  pleasure,  and  soon  after  the 

formal  salutation  informed  me  that  Prince  N had 

spent  the  last  evening  at  his  house.  Liza  greeted  me 
very  composedly. 

"  Well,"  I  thought,  "I  know  why  you  are  in  good 
spirits." 

I  must  confess  that  the  second  visit  of  the  prince  ap- 
peared to  me  very  suspicious  ;  I  did  not  expect  that  he 
would  call  on  the  Ojogins  a  second  time.  Persons  like 
myself  generally  expect  everything  in  the  world  except 
that  which  is  the  most  natural.  I  puffed  up,  and  as- 
sumed the  air  of  an  offended  but  generous  person.  I 
desired  to  punish  Liza  with  my  displeasure.  This  shows 
that  I  was.  not  in  despair  after  all.  It  is  said  that,  in 
some  cases,  when  a  person  is  really  beloved,  it  is  very 
good  for  him  to  tantalize  a  little  the  one  he  loves  ;  it  is 


DIARY   OF   A   SUPERFLUOUS   MAN.  93 

a  kind  of  incentive  ;  but  in  my  case  it  was  very  foolish. 
Liza  remained  unobservant  of  it  in  the  most  innocent 
manner.  Only  old  Mrs.  Ojogin  noticed  my  sullen 
silence,  and  sympathetically  asked  me  if  I  was  well.  Of 
course  I  smiled  bitterly,  'and  said  that  I  was — thank 
Providence — very  well.  Ojogin  continued  to  talk  about 
his  new  guest,  but  noticing  .that  1  spoke  unwillingly, 
he  turned  to  Bizmenkoff,  who  listened  to  him  very  at- 
tentively. Suddenly  the  footman  announced  : 

"  His  Excellency,  Prince  N" ." 

The  host  jumped  up  and  went  to  meet  him.  Liza,  at 
whom  I  looked  with  piercing  eyes,  blushed  with  pleas- 
ure, and  moved  in  her  chair.  The  prince  entered,  all 
sunshine,  perfumed,  good-humored,  and  polite. 

As  I  am  not  composing  a  tale  for  the  indulgent 
reader,  but  simply  am  writing  for  my  own  pastime,  I 
will  not  have  recourse  to  the  usual  schemes  of  com- 
posers. I  shall  therefore  state  at  once  that  Liza  fell  in 
love  with  the  prince  as  soon  as  she  saw  him  ;  he  also 
fell  in  love  with  her.  It  is  no  wonder  that  it  happened 
so  ;  partly  because  he  had  nothing  else  to  do,  and  partly 
because  of  his  habit  of  turning  women's  heads,  and  also 
because  Liza  was  really  a  lovely  girl.  He,  most  prob- 
ably, never  expected  to  find  such  a  pearl  in  such  a  dirty 

shell  as  the  accursed  town  of  O ;  and  she  had  never 

yet  seen,  even  in  her  dreams,  a  man  like  this  sparkling, 
gay,  considerate,  and  charming  aristocrat. 

After  the  first  ceremonious  salutations,  I  was  intro- 
duced to  the  prince.  He  treated  me  very  courteously  ; 
he  in  general  treated  everybody  courteously,  notwith- 
standing the  great  difference  there  was  between  him  and 
our  poor,  uncultured  circle  of  insignificant  individuals. 
He  behaved  in  such  a  manner  that  not  only  he  did  not 
make  others  feel  uneasy  in  his  presence,  but  he  himself 


94  DIARY    OF    A    SUPERFLUOUS   MAN. 

assumed  an  appearance  as  if  he  were  one  like  ourselves, 
and  as  if  his  aristocratic  family,  and  his  living  in  the 
metropolis,  were  mere  accidental  things  of  no  conse- 
quence whatever. 

The  first  evening — oh  !  that  first  evening  in  his  com- 
pany !  I  remember  once,  in  the  happy  days  of  my 
childhood,  my  teacher,  desiring  to  illustrate  to  me  an  ex- 
ample of  manly  endurance,  told  me  the  story  of  the 
Lacedemonian  youth  who  stole  a  fox  and  hid  it  under 
his  coat.  That  youth  did  not  betray  himself,  even  with 
a  sigh,  when  the  fox  was  gnawing  his  bowels  ;  thus  he 
preferred  the  most  painful  death  to  public  disgrace.  I 
cannot  find  any  better  illustration  of  the  sufferings  I  en- 
dured on  that  evening,  when  I  for  the  first  time  saw  the 
prince  near  Liza.  I  must  have  cut  a  peculiar  figure  that 
evening,  with  the  forced  smile  stationary  on  my  face, 
with  my  keen  and  tantalizing  glances,  with  my  foolish 
silence,  and,  at  last,  with  my  fruitless  desire  of  being  out 
of  the  way.  Truly,  more  than  one  fox  was  gnawing  at 
my  bowels.  There  were  jealousy,  envy,  helpless  wrath, 
and  the  feeling  of  my  own  nothingness  which  tormented 
rne  all  at  a  time.  I  could  not  but  admit  that  the  prince 
was  a  very  agreeable  young  man.  I  could  not  turn  my 
eyes  from  him  ;  and  really  I  think  that,  in  spite  of  my 
habit,  I  did  not  wink  a  single  time  the  whole  evening. 
He  did  not  address  Liza  only  ;  he  spoke  to  everybody 
present,  but  his  whole  conversation  was  for  her  alone. 
I  imagine  that  he  was  highly  displeased  with  me  that 
evening.  He  probably  conjectured  at  once  that  in  me  he 
had  a  dispossessed  lover,  and  out  of  pity  to  me,  also  on 
account  of  his  knowledge  of  how  harmless  I  was,  he  ad- 
dressed me  in  very  kind  terms.  It  is  easy  to  imagine 
how  I  felt  about  this  kindness  of  his. 

During  the  whole  evening  I  tried  to  repair  the  wrong 


DIARY    OF    A    SUPERFLUOUS   MAN.  95 

I  had  done,  for  in  the  very  midst  of  my  sufferings  I  im- 
agined (let  not  the  reader  of  this  manuscript  laugh  at  me, 
it  was  my  last  delusion)  that  Liza  wanted  to  punish  me 
for  the  coldness  I  had  shown  toward  her,  that  she  was 
angry  with  me  and  desired  to  tease  me  a  little,  and 
therefore  she  flirted  with  the  prince.  At  the  first  favor- 
able opportunity  I  approached  her  with  a  quiet,  kind 
smile,  and  whispered,  "  That  is  enough.  Excuse  me. 
I  did  not  do  it  because  I  feared — "  And  without  wait- 
ing for  an  answer  I  assumed  a  cheerful  appearance, 
pressed  out  a  queer  smile,  and  raised  my  hand  toward 
the  ceiling  (I  remember  I  wanted  to  fix  my  necktie).  I 
proposed  even  to  turn  around  on  one  leg,  meaning  to 
show  that  all  was  finished,  that  I  was  all  right  and  de- 
sired everybody  to  be  in  good  humor  ;  but  I  did  not  do 
that  for  fear  1  might  fall.  Liza  did  not  understand  me, 
of  course.  She  looked  at  me  with  astonishment  and 
smiled  hastily,  as  if  desiring  to  get  rid  of  me,  and  sat 
down  again  near  the  prince. 

Blind  and  deaf  as  I  was  the  whole  time,  I  could  not 
but  notice  that  she  never  was  angry  or  dissatisfied  with 
me  ;  she  did  not  think  of  me  at  all.  This  was  the  last 
blow.  My  last  hope  was  crushed  like  an  ice-mushroom 
at  the  first  ray  of  the  sun.  I  was  beaten  by  the  first  en- 
counter, like  the  Prussians  at  Jena.  In  one  day,  at  one 
time,  I  lost  everything.  No,  she  never  was  angry  at 
me.  Alas  !  I  noticed  it,  she  was  like  a  tree  under- 
washed  by  a  passing  stream  !  Thus  a  young  tree,  already 
separated  from  the  coast  by  an  inroad  of  the  river,  in- 
clines itself  more  and  more  toward  the  current,  ready  to 
drown  in  it  the  first  bloom  of  its  spring  and  even  its 
very  life.  He  who  ever  had  the  opportunity  to  observe 
such  phases  of  emotion  in  the  object  he  loved,  without 
being  beloved,  has  experienced  bitter,  very  bitter  min- 


9G  DIARY    OF   A    SUPERFLUOUS   MAJ*. 

utes  of  life.  I  shall  never  forget  the  eager  attention, 
the  tender  joyfulness,  the  innocent  forgetful  ness,  the 
looks  in  which  childishness  and  womanhood  were 
blended,  the  happy  smile  that  beamed  incessantly  upon 
her  half-open  lips  and  crimsoning  cheeks. 

All  the  dim  presentiments  that  Liza  had  had  at  the 
time  of  our  walk  in  the  forest,  had  now  been  realized, 
and  she  had  given  herself  entirely  to  love,  and  had 
become,  so  to  say,  calm  and  clear.  Thus  fresh  M-ine 
does  not  ferment  when  it  has  attained  its  ripeness. 

I  had  the  patience  1o  sit  there  that  whole  evening  and 
many  succeeding  evenings  to  the  end.  I  could  not  hope 
for  anything.  Liza  and  the  prince  had  become  more 
and  more  attached  to  one  another.  But  I  had  lost  all 
feeling  of  self-respect  ;  I  could  not  tear  myself  away 
from  the  sight  of  my  misfortune.  Once  I  tried  not  to 
go  there,  I  pledged  my  honor  that  I  would  stay  at 
home  the  whole  evening  ;  but  no  sooner  did  the  clock 
strike  eight  (the  usual  time  of  my  call  was  at  seven), 
than  I  took  my  hat  and  ran  off  to  the  Ojogins.  My 
condition  was  very  inconvenient.  I  did  not  utter  a 
sound  for  days.  I  had  never  excelled  in  eloquence,  as 
I  stated  before,  but  at  that  time  the  few  words  I  ever 
had  at  my  command  vanished  before  the  appearance  of 
the  prince,  and  I  remained  like  a  hawk  which  had  lost 
its  feathers.  Besides  this,  I  made  my  poor  brain  work 
so  hard  when  I  was  alone,  analyzing  everything  I  had 
noticed  and  observed  during  the  preceding  evening,  that 
I  was  hardly  able  to  make  observations  again  the  next 
evening  when  1  returned  to  the  Ojogins.  The  latter 
treated  me  with  pity  and  consideration,  as  if  I  were  a 
sick  person  ;  I  noticed  that  too. 

Every  morning  I  adopted  a  new  and  definite  resolu- 
tion, which  was  the  result  of  a  sleepless  night's  specula- 


DIARY   OF   A    SUPERFLUOUS   MAK.  97 

tions.  Sometimes  I  would  resolve  to  have  an  explana- 
tion with  Liza,  to  give  her  some  friendly  advice.  But 
when  I  was  alone  with  her  my  tongue  became  stiff  as  if 
petrified,  and  we  both  spent  the  time  in  tormenting 
silence,  anxiously  waiting  for  some  third  person  to 
come  in  and  relieve  us.  Or  I  would  make  up  my  mind 
to  leave  the  place  forever,  of  course  leaving  behind  a 
letter  for  Liza,  full  of  reproaches  and  gall.  I  once  even 
commenced  to  write  such  a  letter,  but  the  sense  of  jus- 
tice had  not  quitted  me  :  it  occurred  to  me  that  I  had 
no  right  or  reason  to  reproach  anybody,  and  I  threw 
the  epistle  in  the  fire. 

At  times,  a  generous  impulse  would  master  me.  I 
would  resolve  to  sacrifice  my  sentiments  for  the  benefit 
of  the  one  I  adored,  to  bless  her  and  desire  her  happiness 
in  love  and  life.  At  such  moments  I  would  glance  at 
the  lovers  with  kindness  and  emotion.  But  they  not 
only  did  not  thank  me  for  my  sacrifice,  they  did  not 
even  notice  it  ;  they  had  no  need  either  of  my  generos- 
ity or  my  smiles.  Then  I  would  become  indignant,  and 
swear  to  revenge  myself  on  my  rival.  I  would  take  a 
notion  to  wrap  myself  in  a  cloak  like  a  Spaniard,  wait 
for  the  prince  at  some  corner  in  the  darkness  of  night, 
and  plunge  my  dagger  into  his  breast.  With  ferocious 
joy  I  would  then  imagine  the  despair  of  Liza.  But  first 
of  all  there  are  very  few  such  romantic  corners  in 
O—  — ,  and  then  the  log  hedges,  the  lanterns,  the  police 
soldiers  within  every  few  steps.  No,  in  such  places,  it 
is  more  befitting  to  trade  with  cakes  and  apples  than  to 
shed  human  blood.  Among  all  such  "  means  of  re- 
lease," as  I  termed  my  fancies,  I  thought  also  of  speak- 
ing to  Ojogin  himself,  to  direct  the  notice  of  that  noble- 
man to  the  dangerous  position  of  his  daughter  and 
the  sad  consequences  of  light-mindedness.  Once  even  I 


98  DIARY   OF   A    SUPERFLUOUS    MAN. 

broached  this  delicate  subject  to  him,  but  T  spoke  in  such 
vague  and  far-fetched  terms  that  he  listened  to  me  for 
some  time  without  understanding  a  word  of  what  I  said, 
and  becoming  tired  of  my  mysticisms  he  arose  suddenly, 
as  if  awakened  from  a  heavy  sleep,  passed  his  hand  over 
his  face,  sneezed,  and  left  the  room. 

I  need  not  add  that  in  all  these,  my  proceedings,  I 
tried  to  persuade  myself  that  I  was  acting  without  any 
egotism  ;  that  I  embraced  only  a  cause  of  justice  ;  that, 
as  a  friend  of  the  house,  1  was  in  duty  bound  to  take 
care  of  its  honor.  But  I  must  confess  that  even  if  Mr. 
Ojogin  had  not  interrupted  me  so  unceremoniously,  I 
would  not  have  had  courage  enough  to  tell  him  all  that 
I  had  proposed  to  say. 

Sometimes  I  would  undertake  to  weigh  the  character 

of  Prince  K" ,  with  the  seriousness  of  a  wise  man  of 

the  ancient  times.  At  other  times  I  tried  to  persuade 
myself  that  the  situation  of  the  love  affair  was  very  tri- 
lling, that  Liza  would  yet  bethink  herself  that  her  senti- 
ments for  the  prince  were  anything  but  real  love.  In 
short,  I  do  not  know  of  any  thought  that  did  not  cross 
my  mind  at  that  time.  Only  one  "  means  of  release" 
never  occurred  to  me,  and  that  was  suicide.  It  never 
entered  my  mind  to  kill  myself.  I  cannot  tell  why  I 
did  not  think  of  that.  Maybe  I  had  already  the  pre- 
sentiment that  I  would  not  have  to  live  long  anyhow. 

It  is  self-understood  that  under  such  disadvantageous 
circumstances  my  deportment,  my  communication  with 
others  became  more  unnatural  and  stiff  than  ever.  Even 
the  old  Mrs.  Ojogin,  that  half-idiotic  individual,  be- 
came, so  to  say,  afraid  of  me  ;  she  did  not  know  from 
what  side  to  approach  me.  Bizrnenkoff,  who  was  always 
courteous  and  obliging,  tried  to  avoid  me.  I  began  to 
suspect  that  he  was  a  fellow-sufferer  of  mine — that  he 


DIARY   OF   A    SUPERFLUOUS    MAN.  99 

also  was  in  love  with  Liza.  But  he  never  entered  into 
conversation  with  me — never  responded  to  my  hints  on 
this  subject.  The  prince  treated  him  in  a  very  friendly 
way — almost  respectfully.  Neither  Bizmenkoff  nor  I 
hindered  the  prince  in  his  communication  'with  Liza. 
But  Bizmenkoff  did  not  keep  himself  away  from  them  ; 
he  did  not  look  either  like  a  wolf  or  like  his  prey,  and 
willingly  joined  their  company  whenever  he  noticed  that 
they  desired  it.  It  is  true,  he  did  not  show  any  special 
gayety  when  he  joined  them,  but  that  did  not  tell  much 
on  him,  since  he  always  had  an  air  of  quietness  about 
him. 

This  state  of  affairs  lasted  for  about  a  fortnight.  The 
prince  showed  himself  not  only  a  man  of  discretion  and 
of  attractive  appearance,  but  he  was  also  very  sociable 
in  every  way.  He  played  the  piano,  sang  with  a  very 
sonorous  voice,  could  draw  very  good  landscapes  and 
pictures,  and  he  also  had  the  talent  of  narrating  stories 
in  a  very  pleasant  manner.  His  anecdotes,  all  drawn 
from  high  life  in  the  capital,  always  produced  a  great 
effect  upon  the  hearers.  The  effect  was  the  stronger  on 
account  of  his  way  of  telling  them,  in  a  light  and  easy 
manner,  as  not  attaching  any  importance  to  what  he  nar- 
rated. In  consequence  of  this  little  artilice,  the  prince 

became  the  idol  of  society  at  O .  It  is  generally 

very  easy  for  a  person  of  the  higher  circle  of  society  to 
charm  us  provincials  of  the  steppes. 

The  frequent  visits  that  the  prince  paid  the  Ojogins  (he 
spent  there  all  his  evenings),  naturally  aroused  the 
envy  of  other  dignitaries  of  the  town  ;  but,  as  a  man  of 
the  world,  he  understood  how  to  conciliate  all  the  other 
officials  and  noblemen.  He  visited  them  by  turns,  had 
always  a  compliment  for  their  ladies,  and  allowed  him- 
self to  be  stuffed  with  heavy  meals  and  bad  wines.  In  a 


100  DIARY    OF   A    SUPERFLUOUS    MAN. 

word,  lie  deported  himself  excellently,  courteously,  and 
cleverly.  He  was  in  general,  as  1  said  before,  a  cheer- 
ful, sociable,  and  kind  man  ;  such  was  his  natural  dispo- 
sition, and  here  in  O he  had  some  reason  to  display 

his  good  qualities  to  the  best  advantage.  It  would  be  a 
great  wonder  if  he  had  not  succeeded  in  his  designs. 

Since  the  prince  had  arrived  in  O ,  everybody  in 

Ojogin's  house  found  out  that  time  passed  with  unusual 
rapidity.  Everything  was  going  on  nicely  and  in  the  best 
order.  Ojogin  himself,  although  he  professed  not  to 
notice  anything,  in  silence  with  himself  melted  for  pleas- 
ure at  the  anticipation  of  having  such  a  son-in-law. 
The  prince  conducted  his  affair  quietly  and  cautiously. 
But  for  one  unexpected  incident  nothing  would  ever 
have  become  known. 

I  feel  very  tired  now.  I  will  continue  to-morrow. 
These  recollections  aggravate  me  even  at  the  brink  of 
the  grave.  Terentievna  has  noticed  to-day  that  my  nose 
has  become  more  pointed  than  it  ever  was.  They  say  it 
is  an  evil  omen. 

March  27 — Continued  thato. 

The  affair  stood  then  in  the  following  condition  with 
relation  to  the  concerned  parties  :  the  prince  and  Liza 
loved  one  another.  The  old  Ojogins  expected  a  happy 
termination  of  such  a  flattering  connection  of  their 
daughter  with  the  prince.  Bizmenkoff  was  also  present 
— nothing  else  could  be  said  of  him.  I  writhed  like  a 
worm  in  the  dust,  and  made  as  many  observations  as  1 
could.  I  imposed  upon  myself  the  task  to  save  Liza 
from  the  snares  of  her  charmer,  and  therefore  I  began 
to  watch  with  suspicion  the  handmaid  and  the  back-doors. 
At  the  same  time  I  would  sit  up  nights  imagining  the 
touching  generosity  with  which  I  would  extend  my  hand 
to  the  deceived  girl,  telling  her,  "A  false-hearted  rec- 


DIARY    OF   A    SUPERFLUOUS    MAN.  101 

reant  has  deceived  you,  but  1  am  a  true  friend  ;  let  us 
forget  the  past  and  be  happy." 

All  of  a  sudden  there  was  a  rumor  that  the  governor  of 
the  district  proposed  to  give  a  ball  in  honor  of  the  noble 
guest,  in  his  own  country  seat.  Gornostaevka.  All  the 
official  dignitaries  and  nobility  received  invitations,  from 
the  governor  of  the  town  down  to  the  apothecary.  The 
latter  \vas  a  German,  with  an  unusually  pimpled  face, 
who  made  strong  pretensions  of  speaking  the  Russian 
language  correctly.  He,  therefore,  was  apt  to  use 
strong  expressions  on  all  occasions,  as,  for  instance,  "I 
be  dis  day  the  devil  of  a  fellar  !"  and  such  like. 

Great  preparations  had  begun,  as  is  the  custom  on 
such  occasions.  One  cosmetic  merchant  sold  110  less 
than  sixteen  dark-bluish  boxes  of  pomade,  labelled  "  a  la 
jasmiene,"  with  French  letters  and  Russian  spelling. 
The  young  ladies  furnished  themselves  with  light 
dresses,  merciless  girdles  to  which  there  was  something 
like  a  rat  attached  with  a  chain  in  the  front.  The 
mothers  erected  on  their  heads  some  threatening  towers 
under  the  plea  of  hats.  The  overbusied  fathers  mus- 
tered their  old  horses  that  had  lost  the  use  of  their  hind 
legs. 

The  long-expected  day  arrived  at  last.  I  was  among 
the  number  of  invited  guests.  From  the  tow*  of 
O —  -  to  Gornostaevka  is  a  distance  of  about  ten  versts. 
Mr.  Ojogin  offered  me  a  seat  in  his  carriage,  but  I  re- 
fused to  accept  it.  Thus  a  child  which  has  been  punished 
by  his  parents  refuses  to  eat  of  the  dishes  he  likes 
best,  in  order  to  avenge  himself  on  them.  Besides  that, 
I  felt  that  I  would  incommode  Liza  with  my  presence. 
Bizmenkoif  took  my  seat.  The  prince  went  to  the  ball 
in  his  own  carriage,  which  he  had  hired  for  a  large  sum. 

I  shall  not  attempt  to  describe  the  ball.     Everything 


102  DIARY    OF   A   SUPERFLUOUS   MAN. 

required  for  such  occasions  was  there — musicians  with 
falsely-tuned  brass  instruments  on  the  platform  ;  land- 
owners with  their  over-aged  families  ;  red  ice-cream  ; 
yellow  jelly  ;  men  with  worn-out  boots  and  with  knotted 
cotton  neckties  ;  provincial  dandies  with  nervous  faces, 
etc.,  etc.,  and  this  whole  little  world  revolved  around  its 
sun,  the  Prince  N . 

Lost  in  the  multitudes,  unnoticed  even  by  the  old  maids 
who  had  red  pimples  on  their  foreheads  and  blue  flowers 
on  their  temples,  I  stood  there  with  my  eyes  wandering 
from  the  prince  to  Liza,  and  from  Liza  to  the  prince. 
She  was  dressed  in  a  lovely  manner,  and  looked  remark- 
ably well  that  evening.  The  prince  danced  with  her 
only  twice  during  the  whole  evening,  besides  the  grand 
ceremonial  mazourka  ;  but  it  was  evident  (to  me,  at  least) 
that  there  existed  some  incessant  secret  communication 
between  them  all  the  time.  He,  not  looking  at  her,  not 
addressing  her,  seemed  yet  to  speak  to  her,  and  to  her 
alone.  He  was  polite,  gay,  and  even  affectionate  with 
others — for  her  sake.  She,  it  seemed,  felt  that  she  was 
the  queen  of  the  evening  and — of  his  heart.  Her  face 
expressed  childlike  happiness,  innocent  pride,  and,  at 
times,  some  other  deep  emotion.  All  these  expressions 
were,  so  to  say,  blended  in  her  whole  appearance,  and 
she^ppeared  the  very  picture  of  felicity.  I  observed  all 
this.  It  was  not  the  first  time  for  me  to  make  observa- 
tions. At  first  I  conceived  a  feeling  as  though  I  were 
offended  ;  subsequently  I  felt  a  pang  of  grief,  and  at 
last  I  became  furious.  Yes,  I  suddenly  became  very 
angry,  and  this  feeling  raised  me  in  my  own  estimation, 
and  I  welcomed  it  with  my  whole  heart.  . 

"  I  shall  show  them  I  am  not  dead  yet,"  I  mut- 
tered to  myself,  and  puffed  up  like  a  turkey. 

As  soon  as  the  first  stirring  notes  of  the  mazourka  re- 


DIARY    OF    A    SUPERFLUOUS   MAX.  103 

sounded,  I  looked  around  with  a  cool  and  dignified  air, 
and  gracefully  approached  a  maiden  who  was  the  owner 
of  a  long  face,  a  red,  glossy  nose,  an  open  mouth,  and  a 
long,  muscular  neck,  reminding  one  of  the  handle  of  a 
contra-basso.  With  a  polite  bow  and  a  chink  with  the 
heels  of  my  boots,  I  asked  her  to  dance  with  me.  She 
wore  a^ress  of  pale-red  color,  which  looked  as  though  it 
had  been  sick  and  was  not  yet  quite  recovered.  She 
looked  as  though  she  were  saturated  with  the  sour  feel- 
ing of  an  old  failure.  The  whole  evening  she  had  been 
sitting  in  her  chair  ;  nobody  thought  of  inviting  her  to 
dance.  One  youth  of  about  sixteen  years  old  once  made 
a  step  toward  her,  evidently  with  the  intention  of  invit- 
ing her,  for  want  of  another  partner  ;  but  he  changed 
his  mind  and  turned  the  other  way.  Now,  it  can  easily. 
be  imagined  how  pleased  she  was  with  my  invitation. 
I  conducted  her  through  the  drawing-room,  bearing  my- 
self proudly,  found  two  chairs  near  the  circle  of  the 
dancers,  and  sat  down  with  her  just  opposite  the  prince 
and  Liza. 

Neither  my  lady  nor  I  was  troubled  much  with  invita- 
tions, consequently  we  had  time  enough  for  conversa- 
tion. It  is  true,  my  lady  did  not  betray  any  special  gift 
in  that  line  ;  she  used  her  mouth  for  some  strange  kind 
of  a  smile,  her  lips  and  chin  pressing  downward  while 
her  eyes  raised  themselves  upward,  as  though  some  in- 
visible power  extended  her  long  face  from  within.  But 
I  needed  not  her  conversational  powers.  I  felt  angry, 
and  my  partner  did  not  make  me  feel  timid — that  was  a 
blessing. 

I  began  to  criticise  everybody  and  everything  in  the 
world,  especially  stigmatizing  the  young  dandies  of  the 
capital,  the  Petersburgian  good-for-nothing  fellows.  At 
last  I  went  off  so  far  that  my  lady,  instead  of  raising  her 


1<>4  DIARY    OF   A   SUPERFLUOUS   MAN. 

eyes,  commenced  to  look  crosswise,  and  to  twist  her  face 
in  a  queer  manner,  as  if  she  had  perceived,  for  the  first 
time  in  her  life,  that  she  had  a  nose  on  her  face.  A 
provincial  dandy,  who  sat  near  me,  also  glanced  over 
several  times  to  my  side,  and  at  last  stared  at  me  with 
the  air  of  an  actor  who  wakes  up  in  a  foreign  region  on 
the  stage,  as  if  he  wanted  to  say,  "  Ah,  you  ffre  also 
sailing  in  that  direction." 

In  the  earnest  pursuit  of  my  conversation,  I  did  not, 
however,  leave  off  observing  the  prince  and  Liza.  They 
were  both  incessantly  in  the  whirl  of  the  dance,  invited, 
alternately,  by  each  of  the  participants.  I  did  not  suffer 
BO  much  when  I  saw  them  together,  dancing  or  chatting, 
with  that  rosy  smile  which  is  always  to  be  seen  on  the 
faces  of  happy  lovers  ;  no,  E  did  not  suffer  so  much  then 
as  I  suffered  when  I  saw  Liza  in  the  whirl,  and  the 
prince  sitting  in  his  chair  holding  her  blue  silk  shawl  on 
his  knees,  and  following  her  movements  with  thought- 
ful and  sparkling  eyes.  Then,  oh,  then,  I  suffered  the 
sharpest  pangs,  and  uttered  such  forcible  remarks  in 
my  anger  that  my  partner's  eyes  became  all  sunken  in 
her  nose,  so  great  was  her  astonishment. 

By  and  by  the  mazourka  was  drawing  to  its  close  ; 
they  commenced  the  figure  which  is  termed  La  Conji- 
dente.  In  this  figure,  a  lady  sits  down  in  the  circle  and 
chooses  another  lady  for  her  confidante,  to  whom  she 
secretly  mentions  the  name  of  a  gentleman  with  whom  she 
wishes  to  dance.  Her  partner  brings  the  dancers  to  her, 
one  after  the  other,  and  her  confidante,  standing  at  her 
side,  refuses  them  until  the  chosen  one  is  brought  for- 
ward. Liza  sat  in  the  circle,  and  chose  for  a  confidante 
the  host's  daughter,  a  girl  of  indifferent  qualities.  The 
prince  began  to  search  for  the  chosen  one.  In  vain  did 
he  bring  to  her  ten  dancers,  one  after  another  ;  the  con- 


DIARY    OF    A    SUPERFLUOUS    MAN.  105 

fidante  bowed  them  off  with  a  polite  smile.  At  last  he 
turned  toward  me.  Something  unusual  passed  within 
me  at  that  moment  ;  I  twisted,  so  to  say,  with  my  whole 
frame.  My  first  impulse  was  to  refuse  his  invitation, 
but  I  did  not  do  it  ;  I  followed  him  to  Liza's  chair.  She 
did  not  even  glance  at  me  ;  lier  confidante  made  the  sign 
of  refusal.  The  prince,  probably  moved  by  my  sad  ap- 
pearance, made  to  me  a  deep  bow. 

Liza's  indifference,  her  refusal,  transmitted  to  me  by 
my  happy  rival  with  rnock  politeness  and  with  a  careless 
smile — all  this  produced  a  kind  of  explosion  within  me. 
I  drew  near  to  the  prince  and  said,  furiously  : 

"  It  seems  you  have  the  pleasure  of  laughing  at  me  ?" 

He  looked  at  me  with  astonishment  and  contempt, 
took  me  by  the  arm  with  an  appearance  as  if  he  wanted 
to  conduct  me  back  to  my  seat,  and  asked,  coolly  : 

«  Who?— I?" 

"  Yes,  you  !"  I  retorted,  in  a  whisper,  following  him 
to  my  seat  ;  "  you,  my  dear  sir  !  And  I  do  not  intend 
to  allow  any  worthless  Petersburgian  upstart — ' ' 

"  I  understand  you,"  he  interrupted  me,  with  a  smile 
of  condescension  ;  "  I  understand  you,  and  we  will  speak 
about  it  afterward — here  is  not  the  place." 

He  left  rue  and  turned  to  Bizmenkoff  as  calmly  and 
composedly  as  if  nothing  had  happened.  That  pale- 
looking  little  gentleman  proved  to  be  the  chosen  one. 
Liza  rose  to  meet  him,  and  danced  a  round  with  him. 

Taking  my  seat  at  my  partner's  side,  I  felt  myself 
almost  a  hero.  My  heart  was  beating  high,  my  breast 
expanded  under  the  starched  shirt-front ;  I  breathed 
deep  and  fast,  and  all  of  a  sudden  bestowed  such  a 
haughty  glance  upon  my  neighbor,  the  dandy,  that  he 
became  quite  confused,  and  drew  in  his  little  foot,  which 
was  extended  in  a  graceful  position.  Having  thus  paid 


106  DIARY   OF   A    SUPERFLUOUS    MAN. 

off  that  gentleman,  I  passed  a  glance  around  the  whole 
circle  of  dancers.  It  appeared  to  me  that  two  or  three 
gentlemen  looked  at  me  with  some  curiosity  ;  but  on  the 
whole,  my  conversation  with  the  prince  had  been 
noticed  but  very  little.  My  rival  was  already  sitting  in 
his  chair,  with  a  very  unconcerned  air,  and  with  the 
former  smile  on  his  face.  Bizmenkoff  had  made  his 
tour  with  Liza  and  conducted  her  back  to  her  seat.  She 
bowed  to  him  very  gracefully,  and  turned  to  the  prince, 
it  seemed  to  me  somewhat  agitated,  asking  him  some- 
thing. He  answered  her,  laughing,  and  made  a  very 
graceful  motion  with  his  hand.  He  must  have  told  her 
something  very  agreeable,  for  she  blushed  with  pleasure, 
sank  her  eyes  to  the  ground,  and  raised  them  again  at 
him  with  an  expression  of  reproach. 

The  heroic  sentiment  which  sprang  up  in  me  so  sud- 
denly did  not  desert  me  for  some  time  ;  but  I  did  not 
criticise  any  more  :  I  only  looked  at  my  lady  with  a 
gloomy  and  dignified  expression.  She  evidently  began 
to  be  afraid  of  me,  for  she  stuttered  when  she  at- 
tempted to  speak,  and  winked  incessantly.  When  the 
mazourka  was  finished,  I  delivered  the  affrighted  maiden 
back  to  the  legitimate  care  of  her  mother,  a  stout  woman 
with  a  yellow  structure  on  her  head  by  way  of  a  head- 
gear. I  then  placed  myself  at  the  window,  crossed  my 
arms  on  my  breast,  and  awaited  the  issue  of  things. 

I  had  to  wait  for  some  time.  The  prince  was  surround- 
ed by  the  family  of  the  host  and  by  some  of  the  guests, 
just  as  England  is  surrounded  by  waters.  Besides  that, 
he  could  not  come  up  to  such  an  insignificant  person  as  I 
was,  without  some  reasonable  plea,  for  fear  he  would 
arouse  suspicion.  My  insignificance  never  afforded  me 
more  satisfaction  than  it  did  at  that  moment.  When  I 
saw  him  turning,  now  to  one  and  now  to  another  of  the 


DIARY   OF    A    SUPERFLUOUS    MAX.  107 

highly  respectable  personages,  who  were  all  anxious  to 
be  noticed  bj  him,  1  muttered,  "  Nonsense,  my  friend  ! 
You  will  come  up  to  me,  insignificant  as  I  am.  I  con- 
trived to  offend  you,  though  !" 

At  last  he  succeeded  in  ridding  himself  of  the  crowd 
of  his  admirers  in  a  well-bred  manner.  He  approached 
the  place  where  I  stood,  passed  me  a  few  steps,  cast  a 
furtive  glance  around  him,  then  turned  back  as  if  re- 
minding himself  of  something,  and  came  up  to  me,  say- 
ing, with  a  smile  : 

"  Ah,  yes  !  Apropos,  1  have  some  little  business  to 
talk  to  you  about." 

Two  gentlemen  of  the  kind  that  never  relinquish  their 
hold  of  a  person,  who  had  followed  the  prince,  stepped 
aside  respectfully  when  they  heard  his  remark  ;  from  the 
word  "  business"  they  inferred  some  official  communi- 
cation. The  prince  took  me  by  the  arm  and  conducted 
me  into  another  room.  My  heart  palpitated. 

"  You  told  me  something  insolent,  I  think,"  he  said, 
putting  the  accent  on  the  word  "  you,"  while  he  looked 
at  me  with  contempt. 

1  must  remark  that  his  haughty  air  was  very  becoming 
to  his  beautiful  features. 

"  I  said  what  I  thought,"  I  rejoined,  raising  my 
voice. 

"Hush!"  he  resumed,  "respectable  people  never 
speak  so  loudly.  You  wish,  perhaps,  to  measure  arms 
with  me  ?" 

"  That  is  your  business,"  I  answered,  straightening 
my  figure. 

"  If  you  do  not  take  back  your  words  1  shall  be  com- 
pelled to  challenge  you." 

"  I  do  not  intend  to  take  any  of  my  words  back." 

"  Indeed  ?"  he  said  with  an  ironical  smile.      "  In  such 


108  DIARY   OF   A    SUPERFLUOUS    MAN. 

a  case,  I  shall  have  the  honor  of  sending  jou  to-morrow 
my  second." 

"  Very  well,  sir  !"  I  answered,  as  calmly  as  I  could. 

The  prince  made  a  slight  bow. 

"  1  cannot  forbid  yon  from  considering  me  a  worthless 
man,"  he  said,  with  a  haughty  air  ;  "  but  the  princely 

family    of    'N cannot    be    considered    parvenues. 

Adieu,  until  to-morrow,  Mister — Mister — Shtukaturin." 
He  abruptly  turned  away  from  me  and  went  to  the  host, 
who  began  to  feel  a  little  anxious  already. 

"  Shtukaturin  !"  Why,  my  name  is  Ohulkaturin  ! 
I  was  so  confounded  by  this  last  insolence  that  1  could 
not  answer  a  word.  I  only  followed  him  with  a  furious 
glance,  and  gnashing  my  teeth,  I  muttered  : 

"  Until  to-morrow." 

I  immediately  went  to  find  an  acquaintance,  a  captain 
of  a  regiment  of  Uhlans — Kolobordiaeff  by  name — a 
very  reckless  and  jolly  old  fellow.  I  informed  him  in  a 
few  words  about  my  quarrel  with  the  prince,  and  re- 
quested him  to  be  my  second.  He,  of  course,  did  not 
refuse  me  this  service,  and  1  went  home. 

I  could  not  sleep  the  whole  night  for  agitation,  but  not 
on  account  of  cowardly  fear  ;  I  did  not  even  think  of  the 
prospect  of  death  before  me.  The  Germans  say  that 
this  is  the  greatest  happiness  in  such  cases.  I  thought 
only  of  Liza,  of  my  lost  hopes,  and  of  how  it  was  my 
duty  to  act. 

"  Shall  I  endeavor  to  kill  the  prince  ?"  I  asked  my- 
self. 

Of  course,  I  meant  to  do  it,  not  for  revenge,  but  for 
Liza's  sake. 

"  But  she  will  not  survive  the  loss,"  I  soliloquized 
again.  u  No,  better  let  him  kill  me." 

1  must  also  confess  that  I  felt  highly  gratified  that 


PIAKY   OF   A    SUPERFLUOUS    MAX.  109 

I,  insignificant  rustic,  could  compel  such  a  high  per- 
sonage to  fight  with  me  for  life  and  death. 

In  such  reflections  I  spent  the  whole  night,  and  with 
the  first  rays  of  the  morning  Kolobordiaeff  entered  my 
room. 

"  Well,"  he  asked  noisily,  "  where  is  the  prince's 
second  ?'' 

"For  mercy's  sake,"  I  answered,  sullenly,  "it  is 
not  seven  o'clock  yet.  The  prince,  I  suppose,  is  yet  in 
bed." 

"  In  that  case,"  continued  the  merciless  Uhlan, 
"  order  some  tea  for  me.  My  head  is  aching  yet  from 
last  evening.  I  did  not  even  undress  last  night.  How- 
ever," he  added,  yawning,  "  I  generally  very  seldom 
undress  for  the  night." 

Tea  was  brought  for  him.  He  drank  six  tumblers  of 
it,  mixed  with  rum.  He  told  me  that  he  had  bought  a 
horse  yesterday,  very  cheaply,  which  no  driver  wanted 
to  look  at  ;  that  he  intended  to  break  the  animal  by 
means  of  tying  up  his  front  legs  :  and  he  fell  asleep  on 
the  sofa, with  a  pipe  in  his  mouth.  I  sat  up  and  put  my 
papers  in  order.  One  invitation  card,  the  only  note  I 
had  received  from  Liza,  I  placed  at  first  in  my  bosom, 
but  I  reconsidered  with  a  sneer,  and  threw  the  note  in 
the  basket.  Kolobordiaeff  was  slightly  snoring,  his  head 
was  thrown  a  little  backward  on  the  leather  cushion,  and  I 
contemplated  for  some  time  his  disorderly,  brown,  care- 
less and  good-natured  face.  At  ten  o'clock  my  footman 
announced  the  arrival  of  Bizmenkoff.  The  prince  had 
taken  him  for  his  second. 

Bizmenkoff  and  1  had  considerable  trouble  in  arousing 
the  sleeping  Uhlan.  He  got  up  and  looked  at  us  with  a 
dull  eye,  asked  for  some  brandy  with  water,  in  a  hoarse 
voice  ;  then  he  roused  himself  entirely,  bowed  to  Biz- 


110  DIARY    OF   A    SUPERFLUOUS   MAN. 

menkoff,  and  went  with  him  into  another  room  for  con- 
sultation. After  the  lapse  of  about  fifteen  minutes, 
they  entered  again  my  dormitory.  Kolobordiaeff  in- 
formed me  that  '*  we  will  fight  to-day  at  three  o'clock 
P.M.,  with  pistols."  I  evinced  my  consent  with  a  silent 
nod.  Bizmenkoff  took  leave,  and  went  immediately 
away.  He  looked  somewhat  pale  and  agitated,  as  per- 
sons generally  look  who  take  part  in  such  affairs  for  the 
first  time  ;  but  he  behaved  composedly  and  politely.  1 
felt  somewhat  ashamed  before  him,  and  could  not  look 
him  straight  in  the  eyes. 

Kolobordiaeff  began  again  to  talk  about  his  new 
horse,  and  I  was  highly  pleased  with  that,  for  I  was 
afraid  lest  he  should  speak  of  Liza.  But  it  was  quite  a 
gratuitous  fear  on  my  part  ;  my  good  Uhlan  was  no  gos- 
siper  ;  and  besides  that,  he  hated  all  women,  and  called 
them  salad,  heaven  knows  for  what  reason.  At  two 
o'clock  we  took  our  luncheon,  and  at  three  sharp  we 
went  to  the  field  of  action.  It  was  the  same  place,  near 
the  declivity,  where  I  had  some  time  ago  admired  the 
crimson  of  the  setting  sun,  together  with  Liza. 

We  were  the  first  on  the  ground,  but  the  other  parties 
did  not  let  us  wait  long.  The  prince  appeared  as  fresh 
as  a  rose,  bright  and  cheerful.  He  smoked  a  fine  ciga- 
rette, and  noticing  Kolobordiaeff,  he  went  up  to  him 
and  shook  hands  with  him  very  cordially.  He  also  made 
a  graceful  bow  to  me.  I,  on  the.  other  hand,  felt  that 
I  was  very  pale  ;  my  hands  trembled  slightly,  to  my 
greatest  dissatisfaction  ;  my  throat  was  dry.  Up  to 
that  time  1  had  never  fought  a  duel. 

"  I  wish  only  that  this  satirical  gentleman  would  not 
ascribe  my  discomfiture  to  cowardice  !"  was  my  only 
thought. 

I  cursed  my  weak  nerves  in  my  heart,  but  at  last   I 


DIARY    OF   A    SUPERFLUOUS   MAX.  Ill 

looked  at  the  prince,  and  noticing  his  satirical  smile, 
became  angry,  and  my  nervousness  was  allayed. 

Our  seconds,  in  the  mean  time,  measured  the  distance, 
marked  the  limits,  and  loaded  the  pistols — that  is,  Kolo- 
bordiaeff  performed  all  this  work,  and  Bizmenkoff  looked 
at  him.  The  day  was  beautiful — not  inferior  to  the  day 
on  which  I  had  taken,  with  Liza,  the  memorable  walk  in 
this  same  place.  The  deep-blue  sky  looked  just  as  sooth- 
ingly through  the  yellowish  foliage  on  which  the  golden 
rays  of  the  sun  were  playing.  The  fresh  air  irritated 
my  breast.  The  prince  leaned  against  a  young  lime 
tree  in  a  very  graceful  position,  and  calmly  smoked  his 
cigarette. 

"  Gentlemen,  please  take  your  positions,"  said  Kolo- 
bordiaeff,  handing  us  the  pistols. 

We  took  our  positions.  The  prince  stepped  a  few 
paces  backward,  and  straightening  himself,  asked  me  : 

"  Do  you  not  yet  want  to  take  your  words  back  ?" 

I  wished  to  answer  him,  but  I  could  not  utter  a  word. 
I  only  made  a  sign  of  refusal  with  my  hand.  He 
smiled  again,  and  resumed  his  post.  We  commenced  to 
step  toward  one  another.  1  raised  my  pistol  and  aimed 
at  my  enemy's  breast — at  that  moment  he  actually  was 
my  enemy — but  the  muzzle  raised  itself,  as  if  somebody 
had  pushed  my  arm.  I  fired.  The  prince  staggered  a 
step  backward,  and  raised  his  hand  to  his  left  temple. 
A  small  vein  of  blood  streamed  over  his  white  glove. 
Bizmenkoff  came  up  hurriedly  to  assist  him. 

"  Never  mind,"  said  the  prince  calmly,  taking  off  his 
cap,  which  was  shot  through.  "  If  in  this  place,  and  I 
am  yet  on  my  feet,  the  wound  cannot  be  serious.  It  is 
only  a  scratch,  I  dare  say." 

He  calmly  drew  out  a,  fine  silk  handkerchief  from  his 
pocket  and  put  it  to  his  curls,  which  were  all  saturated 


112  DIARY    OF   A    SUPERFLUOUS    MAX. 

with  blood.  I  looked  at  him  dumbfounded,  and  did  not 
move. 

"  You  will  please  go  to  your  post,"  said  Kolobordiaeff 
to  me,  in  an  imperative  tone. 

"  Shall  the  fight  be  continued  2''  he  asked  Bizmen- 
koff. 

The  latter  did  not  answer  ;  but  the  prince,  still  hold- 
ing his  handkerchief  to  his  wound,  and  not  even  desiring 
to  have  the  satisfaction  of  tormenting  me  a  little  on  the 
fighting-ground,  answered,  with  a  smile,  that  the  fight 
was  finished,  and  fired  off  his  pistol  in  the  air.  I  almost 
cried  for  fury  and  annoyance.  That  man  had  annihi- 
lated me  eiitirely  ;  he  had  put  me  in  the  dust  with  his 
magnanimity.  I  wanted  to  object  ;  I  wanted  to  request 
him  to  fire  at  me  ;  but  he  approached  me  extending 
his  hand,  and  saying  with  the  softest  accent  : 

"  Everything  is  forgotten  between  us,  is  it  not  ?" 

1  glanced  at  the  pale  face,  at  the  blood -soaked  hand- 
kerchief, and  lost  all  sense  of  individuality.  Ashamed 
arid  confounded,  1  grasped  his  extended  hand. 

"  Gentlemen,"  said  the  prince,  turning  to  the  sec- 
onds, "  I  hope  that  our  little  affair  here  will  remain  a 
secret." 

"  Of  course  !"  exclaimed  Kolobordiaeff  ;  "  but  allow 
me,  prince  ;"  and  he  tied  up  the  wound  on  his  head. 

The  prince  bowed  to  me  once  more  before  he  left  the 
ground,  but  Bizmenkoff  did  not  even  look  at  me.  I 
went  home  with  Kolobordiaeff,  feeling  myself  morally 
dead.  I  was  gloomy  and  silent. 

"  What  is  the  matter  with  you  ?"  asked  the  Uhlan. 
"  You  need  not  trouble  yourself  about  his  wound  ;  there 
is  not  the  slightest  danger  in  it,  and  he  will  be  able  to 
dance  to-morrow  if  he  desires  it.  Or  are  you  sorry  that 
you  did  not  kill  him  ?  Allow  me  to  tell  you,  then,  that 


DIARY   OF   A   SUPERFLUOUS  MAN.  113 

it  would  be  a  pity.  He  is  an  excellent  fellow,  and  I 
would  be  sorry  if  you  had  made  him  bite  the  dust." 

"  But  why  did  he  spare  me  ?"  I  moaned. 

"  Have  you  ever  heard  such  nonsense  ?  Uph  !  those 
authors  !"  exclaimed  the  CFhlan,  shrugging  his  shoulders. 

I  cannot  imagine  how  he  hit  upon  the  idea  of  calling 
me  an  author. 

I  shall  not  attempt  to  describe  the  torturing  feelings  I 
endured  on  the  evening  that  succeeded  the  fatal  duel. 
My  self-love  suffered  extremely.  Remorse  and  the  con- 
viction of  my  own  foolishness  tormented  me  fearfully. 

"  It  was  my  own  fault.  I  have  inflicted  this  last  de- 
structive blow  on  myself,"  1  muttered,  pacing  through 
my  apartment.  "  The  prince,  wounded  by  my  hand, 
has  pardoned  me.  Liza  is  in  his  power  now.  There  is 
nothing  in  the  world  that  can  save  her  from  misfortune 
now. ' ' 

I  knew  very  well  that  the  affair  could  not  remain  a 
secret,  notwithstanding  the  last  remark  of  the  prince. 

"  He  is  not  such  a  fool  as  not  to* take  the  best  advan- 
tage of  the  sensation,"  I  muttered  again,  in  a  fury. 

But  1  was  mistaken  in  the  last  remark.  The  whole 
town,  it  is  true,  knew  on  the  next  day  all  about  the  duel 
and  about  the  cause  of  it  ;  but  it  was  not  the  prince 
through  whom  the  thing  became  known.  On  the  con- 
trary, he  tried  to  conceal  it,  and  when  he  called  on  the 
Ojogins  the  next  day,  he  had  composed  some  story  to 
account  for  his  tied  head,  but  found  that  they  had 
already  been  informed  of  the  real  cause  of  it.  I  could 
not  say  whether  Bizmenkoff  had  betrayed  the  secret,  or 
whether  it  leaked  out  by  some  other  means  ;  I  am  cer- 
tain, however,  that  Kolobordiaeff,  that  hearty,  good 
Uhlan,  did  not  speak  about  it.  But  it  is  no  wonder  ;  in 
a  small  town  like  O ,  nothing  can  remain  a  secret. 


114  DIARY    OF   A    SUPERFLUOUS   MAX. 

It  is  easy  to  imagine  how  Liza  accepted  the  prince 
after  this  catastrophe — how  the  whole  family  of  Ojogin 
accepted  him.  As  for  me,  I  was  looked  at  with  con- 
tempt— I  was  repulsed  as  a  maniac,  as  a  jealous  wretch  ; 
I  was  considered  a  cannibal,  a  bloodhound.  Even  the 
few  friends  I  had  avoided  me  like  a  man  with  a  con- 
taminating disease. 

The  city  authorities  proposed  to  the  prince  to  inflict 
the  hardest  punishment  on  me  ;  they  insisted  that  they 
would  make  an  example  of  me.  Only  the  incessant  and 
earnest  intercession  of  the  prince  saved  me  from  that 
misfortune.  Fate  ordained  it  so  that  this  man  should 
annihilate  me  on  all  points.  His  last  magnanimous 
action  was,  so  to  say,  the  last  stone  thrown  on  the 
grave  of  my  moral  existence.  I  need  not  add  here  that 
the  Ojogins'  house  was  henceforth  closed  for  me.  The 
old  man  sent  me  back  an  old  pencil  which  I  had  forgot- 
ten at  his  house.  Properly  speaking,  Ojogin  had  the 
least  cause  of  being  angry  with  me.  My  "  insane  jeal- 
ousy," as  they  termed  it,  had  explained  and  defined  the 
nature  of  the  prince's  relation  to  Liza.  He  was  hence- 
forth regarded  as  almost  the  suitor  of  Liza,  by  the 
Ojogins  themselves  as  well  as  by  all  others.  The  prince, 
I  dare  say,  did  not  like  this  new  aspect  of  affairs,  but 
he  liked  Liza,  and  at  that  time  he  had  not  yet  achieved 
his  object. 

With  the  cleverness  of  a  man  of  the  world,  the  prince 
adapted  himself  to  his  new  situation.  He  entered,  so  to 
say,  into  the  spirit  of  his  new  role.  And  I — I  waved  my 
hand  with  despondent  resignation  at  my  whole  future. 

When  the  suffering  of  a  man  becomes  so  intense  that 
his  whole  being  is  becoming  crushed  under  its  weight, 
the  ridiculous  part  of  that  suffering  ought  to  end  at  that 
point,  at  least  ;  the  laugh  of  scorn,  so  to  say,  accom- 


DI.VHY   OF    A    SUPERFLUOUS   MAN.  115 

panying  suffering,  ought  to  be  silenced.  But  such  is  not 
the  case.  Laughter  is  the  companion  of  tears  to  the 
end  ;  ay,  the  peals  of  laughter  continue  ringing  even 
when  there  are  no  more  tears  to  be  shed — when  the 
tongue  of  the  sufferer  is  no  longer  capable  of  uttering 
complaint — when  the  very  object  of  suffering  is  writh- 
ing in  its  last  agonies. 

Feeling  very  exhausted  now,  and  having  no  desire 
to  appear  ridiculous  to  myself,  1  shall  delay  the  con- 
tinuation of  my  story  until  to-morrow.  I  shall  finish  it 
entirely,  God  permitting. 

March  29 — A  light  frost.     (Yesterday  was  a  thaw.) 

I  could  not  write  my  diary  yesterday.  I  was  lying  in 
bed  the  whole  day,  chatting  with  Terentievna.  There 
is  a  woman  for  you  !  Sixty  years  ago  she  buried  her 
first  suitor,  who  died  of  cholera.  Since  that  time  she 
has  outlived  her  husband,  carried  all  her  children  to  the 
grave,  and  she  is  now  inexcusably  old.  She  drinks  tea 
the  whole  day,  eats  with  the  best  appetite,  and  is  com- 
fortably dressed  and  snugly  lodged  ;  and  of  what  do  you 
think  did  she  speak  the  whole  day  ?  1  gave  away  an  old 
moth-eaten  fur-collar  to  another  old  woman,  who  has 
not  a  person  in  the  world  to  take  care  of  her.  She 
wanted  that  rag  for  a  vest  (she  wears  jackets  which  look 
like  vests).  Now  my  Terentievna  envied  her  that  tri- 
fling thing  ;  why  did  not  I  give  her  that  collar?  "  Is 
it  not  a  sin  for  you,  master  dear,  to  treat  me  like  this  ? 
Have  not  I  nursed  you  with  my  breast  ?  Have  not  I 
brought  you  up  in  my  lap  ?  Oh-o-o,  master  dear,  1 
have  never  expected  such  treatment  at  your  hands  !" 
etc.,  etc.  The  merciless  woman  thus  worried  me  the 
whole  day  with  reproaches.  But  let  me  resume  my  nar- 
rative. 


116  DIARY    OF   A    SUPERFLUOUS    MAN. 

And  so  I  suffered  like  a  dog  whose  liind  part  has  been 
run  over  by  a  carriage.  Only  after  I  had  been  turned 
out  of  Ojogin's  house,  I  perceived  how  much  pleasure  a 
person  can  derive  from  the  sight  of  his  misfortune.  Oh, 
human  kind  is  truly  a  miserable  race.  But  let  us  leave 
aside  all  philosophical  observations.  I  spent  my  days  in 
perfect  solitude.  I  could  obtain  information  of  what 
was  going  on  in  Ojogin's  house,  or  what  the  prince  was 
doing,  only  by  the  most  indirect  and  scurvy  means.  My 
footman  had  made  the  acquaintance  of  a  second  cousin 
of  the  wife  of  Ojogin's  driver  ;  this  acquaintance  was  a 
source  of  some  comfort  for  me.  By  means  of  small 
presents  and  slight  hints  received  at  my  hand,  the  foot- 
man understood  about  what  subject  he  had  to  speak  to 
his  master  when  he  was  undressing  him  at  night. 

Sometimes  I  met  in  the  street  one  of  Ojogin's  family, 
or  Bizmenkoff,  or  the  prince  himself.  With  the  latter 
I  exchanged  compliments,  but  never  entered  into  con- 
versation. Liza  I  have  seen  only  three  times,  and,  of 
course,  I  never  had  the  courage  to  approach  her.  Once 
1  saw  her  in  a  store  with  her  mother.  She  had  been 
ordering  some  dresses  and  very  busily  selecting  laces. 
Her  mother  stood  with  her  hands  folded  on  the  stomach, 
her  nose  raised  in  the  air,  and  looking  upon  her 
daughter  with  that  foolish  smile  which  is  excusable  only 
in  mothers  who  love  their  children  with  adoration.  The 
second  time  I  saw  Liza  in  a  carriage  with  her  parents  and 
the  prince.  The  old  Ojogins  were  sitting  in  the  rear  of 
the  carriage,  Liza  with  the  prince  on  the  front  seat.  1 
shall  never  forget  how  she  looked  at  that  time.  She  was 
a  little  paler  than  usual  ;  two  feverish  red  spots  played 
on  her  cheeks.  She  sat  half  turned  to  the  prince,  her 
hea.d  reclined  on  her  hand,  which  was  leaning  with  the 
elbow  on  her  knee.  In  her  left  hand  she  held  a  parasol. 


DIARY    OF    A    SUPERFLUOUS    MAN.  117 

Her  expressive  eyes  were  fixed  on  the  prince's  face.  In 
that  moment  she  gave  herself  up  entirely  to  him.  I 
could  not  well  notice  how  he  looked,  but  it  seemed  to 
me  that  he  was  deeply  affected. 

The  third  time  I  saw  her  in  a  church.  It  was  about 
ten  days  after  I  had  seen  her  in  the  carriage,  about  three 

weeks  after  the  duel.  The  prince's  business  at  O 

had  been  finished  for  some  time,  but  he  delayed  his  de- 
parture and  wrote  to  St.  Petersburg  that  he  could  not 
return  on  account  of  sickness.  In  the  town  everybody 
expected  that  he  would  propose  to  Liza  ;  I ,  too,  waited 
for  this  last  blow  in  order  to  depart  from  O after- 
ward. I  had  become  sick  of  that  place.  I  could  not 
stay  in  the  house,  and  roamed  about  the  whole  day  in 
the  suburbs  of  the  town.  Once,  on  a  cloudy  and  dull 
day  returning  home  from  my  ramble,  I  was  overtaken 
by  the  rain  and  entered  a  church.  The  afternoon  ser- 
vice had  just  begun  ;  the  attendance  in  the  church  was 
very  small.  I  looked  around  and  noticed  a  familiar  pro- 
file at  a  window.  At  the  first  glance  I  could  not  discern 
who  it  was.  That  pale  face,  that  dim,  extinguished  eye 
— good  God  !  is  that  Liza  ?  Yes,  Liza  it  was.  Wrapped 
in  a  mantle,  without  a  hat,  she  stood  in  the  niche  of 
the  window,  the  bleak  light  streaming  on  her  pale 
face,  her  eyes  fixed  on  the  imagery  of  the  holy  screen  : 
and  it  seemed  as  though  she  were  trying  to  pray,  or  en- 
deavoring to  rouse  herself  from  a  heavy  dream.  Her 
red-faced  little  footman  stood  behind  her  at  a  respectful 
distance  and  looked  at  his  mistress  with  sleepy,  wonder- 
ing eyes. 

I  trembled  in  all  my  limbs  at  the  sight  of  her.  I 
desired  to  approach  her,  but  had  no  courage  to  do  it.  A 
heavy  presentiment  oppressed  my  heart.  The  service 
was  over  ;  she  did  not  move.  The  janitor  commenced  to 


118  DIARY    OF   A    SUPERFLUOUS    MAN. 

sweep  the  church  ;  she  did  not  notice  him.  At  last,  the 
footman  went  up  to  her  and  whispered  something  in  her 
ear.  She  looked  around,  passed  pensively  her  hand  over 
her  forehead,  and  left  the  church.  I  followed  her  at  a 
distance  until  she  entered  the  house.  "  She  is  lost  !"  I 
exclaimed  as  soon  as  I  entered  my  solitary  apartment. 

Upon  my  honor,  I  could  never  find  out  what  was  the 
nature  of  my  feeling  at  that  time.  I  remember  only 
that  1  had  thrown  myself  on  the  sofa  and  fixed  my  eyes 
on  the  floor  and  remained  in  that  position  for  several 
hours.  In  the  midst  of  the  most  oppressive  sentiments 
I  perceived  some  feeling  of  satisfaction.  I  would  not 
confess  it  for  the  world  if  I  were  not  writing  for  my  own 
self.  A  very  sad  presentiment  filled  iny  heart,  and, 
who  knows,  I  might  perhaps  have  felt  disappointed  if  that 
presentiment  had  not  been  fulfilled.  "  Such  is  the 
heart  !"  would  exclaim  here  a  Russian  school-teacher, 
raising  his  fat  hand  in  the  air  and  displaying  a  carnelian 
ring  on  his  plump  finger.  But  what*  do  I  care  for  the 
school-teacher  with  his  carnelian  ring  ? 

However,  my  presentiments  proved  to  be  correct.  A 
rumor  spread  suddenly  in  the  town  that  the  prince  had 
departed  for  St.  Petersburg.  He  did  not  propose  for 
Liza's  hand,  and  the  poor  girl  was  left  to  weep  all  her 
lifetime  on  account  of  his  treachery.  His  departure  was 
quite  unexpected  (they  said  that  he  had  received  de- 
spatches from  the  capital);  the  evening  before,  his  own 
footman  did  not  know  that  he  was  going  to  leave — at 
least  my  servant  told  me  so.  This  rumor  threw  me  into 
a  perspiration.  I  immediately  dressed  myself  and  ran 
off  to  the  Ojogiris'  ;  but  on  my  way  I  bethought  myself 
that  it  would  be  better  if  I  delayed  my  visit  until  the 
next  day.  I  did  not  lose  anything  by  this  delay.  The 
same  evening  a  certain  Mr.  Pandapipalo,  a  travelling 


DIARY    OF    A    SUPERFLUOUS   MAN.  119 

Greek,  who  had  settled  in  O by  accident,  a  gossiper 

of  the  first  magnitude,  and  who  was  the  first  one  to 
break  out  in  the  most  violent  indignation  against  me  for 
my  duel  with  the  prince,  came  to  my  house  in  a  hurry. 
He  burst  into  my  room  without  allowing  my  footman 
the  time  to  announce  him,  caught  me  by  the  hand  and 
squeezed  it  with  the  greatest  cordiality.  He  begged  my 
forgiveness,  made  many  apologies  for  the  injustice  of  his 
conduct  toward  me,  called  me  the  ideal  of  bravery  and 
magnanimity,  spoke  of  the  prince  in  the  worst  terms, 
did  not  forget  to  make  a  few  bitter  remarks  at  the  ex- 
pense of  Mr.  Ojogin,  who,  according  to  his  opinion,  had 
received  just  punishment  at  the  hands  of  Providence, 
touched  Liza  with  a  remark  or  two,  and  kissing  me  on 
the  shoulder  hurried  away  before  I  could  speak  a  word. 
Among  many  other  things,  I  have  been  informed  that  on 
the  day  previous  to  the  departure  of  the  prince,  Ojogin 
gave  him  some  slight  hints  about  matrimony  ;  but  he 
answered  calmly,  en  vrai  grand  seigneur,  that  he  never 
.intended  to  deceive  anybody  ;  that  he  did  not  intend  to 
marry  so  soon  ;  and  thus  he  left  them  in  the  cold. 

The  next  day  I  called  on  Ojogin.  His  weak-eyed 
footman  jumped  up  when  he  saw  me  entering.  I  or- 
dered him  to  announce  me.  I  was  requested  to  step 
into  Ojogin's  apartment. 

Until  to-morrow. 

Mardi  30— A  frost. 

And  so  I  entered  Mr.  Ojogin's  apartment.  I  would 
give  anything  to  the  person  who  could  show  ine  my 
picture  as  it  was  at  that  moment,  when  the  honorable, 
distinguished  officer  hastily  buttoned  up  his  dressing-gown 
and  came  to  meet  me  with  extended  arms.  I  felt  as  if  I 
had  been  transformed  into  a  Scipio  Africanus.  There 
must  have  been  an  air  of  silent  triumph,  magnanimous 


120  UIAHY    OF   A    SUPERFLUOUS   MAN. 

condescension,  and  sympathy  about  me.  The  old  man 
appeared  careworn  and  confused  ;  he  tried  to  avoid  my 
eyes,  and  changed  color.  I  noticed  also  that  he  spoke 
somewhat  louder  than  usual,  and  expressed  himself  in 
very  vague  terms.  But,  with  true  sincerity,  he  begged 
my  pardon.  He  added  a  few  indefinite  remarks  about 
the  departed  guest,  about  deceit  of  man,  and  instability 
of  earthly  happiness.  A  tear  was  gathering  in  his  eye 
when  he  made  this  remark,  but  he  hastened  to  take  a  pinch 
of  snuff,  in  order  to  deceive  me  about  the  cause  of  that 
tear.  He  used  the  green  Russian  snuff,  which  brings 
tears  even  to  the  eyes  of  old  men,  and  makes  them  look 
dull  for  several  minutes. 

I  treated  the  old  man  with  consideration,  of  course, 
asked  about  the  health  of  Mrs.  Ojogin  and  her 
daughter,  and  turned  the  conversation  on  the  very  in- 
teresting legal  topic  of  "transferring  property  by 
means  of  verbal  declaration."  I  was  dressed  as  usual, 
but  the  sentiments  of  indulgent  sympathy  and  conde- 
scending grace  made  me  feel  light  and  fresh,  as  if  I  had. 
a  white  summer  suit  on  me.  The  prospect  of  meeting 
Liza,  'however,  made  me  feel  a  little  agitated.  Ojogin 
proposed  at  last  to  take  me  to  his  wife.  That  good  but 
simple  lady  became  quite  confused  when  she  saw  me  ; 
but  her  brain  was  not  formed  to  retain  an  impression 
very  long,  and  so  she  soon  cooled  off.  At  last  I  saw 
Liza. 

She  entered  her  mother's  apartment,  where  we  had 
been  sitting.  I  had  expected  to  meet  in  her  a  humiliated 
and  repentant  sinner,  and  tried  beforehand  to  assume 
the  softest  and  most  encouraging  expression.  Why  shall 
I  conceal  it  ?  I  really  loved  that  woman,  and  was  anx- 
ious to  forgive  her  and  to  extend  my  hand  to  her.  But 
how  great  was  my  surprise  when,  in  answer  to  my 


DIARY    OF   A    SUPERFLUOUS   MAX.  121 

polite  salute,  she  began  to  laugh  very  composedly,  re- 
marked, in  a  careless  manner,  "  Ah,  is  that  you  ?"  and 
turned  away  to  the  other  side.  It  is  true  her  laugh  ap- 
peared to  be  forced  from  her  ;  it  did  not,  by  any  means, 
correspond  with  her  pallid  features  ;  but  I  did  not  expect 
such  a  greeting  at  her  hand. 

I  looked  at  her  with  astonishment.  What  a  change 
there  was  in  her  whole  appearance  !  What  a  difference 
between  the  pure  child  I  had  known  a  few  weeks  before, 
and  the  woman  who  now  stood  before  me  !  She  looked 
as  though  she  had  grown  taller  and  straighter  ;  the  lines 
of  her  face,  especially  her  lips,  had  become  sharper  ;  her 
look  had  become  deeper,  harder,  and  had  assumed  a 
piercing,  sad  expression.  I  remained  at  the  Ojogins' 
until  dinner-time.  She  very  calmly  went  in  and  out  of 
the  room,  answered  coolly  to  all  questions  that  were  put 
to  her,  and  purposely  avoided  taking  notice  of  me.  She 
desired  to  show  me — I  understood  it  well — that  I  did  not 
deserve  even  her  anger,  although  1  had  nearly  killed  her 
lover.  I  could  not  master  myself  any  longer  ;  I  dropped 
some  venomous  remarks.  She  was  startled,  cast  a  fur- 
tive glance  at  me,  arose  from  her  seat,  and,  placing  her- 
self near  the  window,  she  said,  with  a  trembling  voice. 

"  You  may  say  whatever  you  please,  but  I  wish 
you  to  understand  that  I  loved  that  man  ;  I  love  him 
still,  and  will  love  him  forever.  I  do  not  consider  him 
unjust  toward  me  ;  on  the  contrary — " 

Her  voice  failed  her  ;  she  stopped  ;  she  made  an  effort 
to  master  herself,  but  in  vain  ;  tears  gushed  forth  from 
her  eyes,  and  she  left  the  room.  The  old  Ojogins  be- 
came confused.  I  arose,  shook  hands  with  them,  sighed, 
raised  my  eyes  to  the  ceiling,  and  left  the  house. 

I  am  very  weak.  There  is  not  much  time  left  me.  I 
am  no  more  able  to  describe  with  the  preceding  accuracy 


123  DIARY    OP   A    SUPERFLUOUS   MAN. 

the  new  range  of  tantalizing  thoughts  and  feelings, 
the  new  resolutions  I  adopted,  and  the  other  fruits  of 
the  mental  strife  I  underwent  after  I  had  renewed  my 
acquaintance  with  the  Ojogins.  I  had  no  doubt  that 
Liza  loved,  and  would  continue  to  love,  the  prince,  and 
as  a  man  who  had  been  humiliated  by*  circumstances, 
and  who  had  learned  to  resign  to  his  fate,  I  did  not  even 
dream  any  more  of  being  beloved  by  Liza.  My  heart 
yearned  only  for  her  friendship  ;  I  desired  only  to  gain 
her  confidence  and  respect,  which  they  say  are  the 
strongest  pillars  that  uphold  married  life.  But,  un- 
fortunately, one  prominent  circumstance  escaped  my 
notice  ;  Liza  could  not  bear  the  eight  of  me  since  my 
duel  with  the  prince  ;  I  became  aware  of  it  too  late. 

I  began  again  to  visit  the  Ojogins.  The  old  man  was 
very  affable  with  me  ;  he  befriended  me  more  than  he 
ever  had  done  before.  I  have  good  reasons  to  believe 
that  he  would  have  been  very  glad  to  give  his  consent 
that  I  should  marry  his  daughter,  although  I  was  not 
such  a  good  suitor.  Public  opinion  was  very  much 
against  him  and  Liza,  and  very  eloquent  in  my  favor. 
Liza's  deportment  toward  me  did  not  change.  She  was 
mostly  silent,  and  performed  patiently  everything  she 
was  required  to  do.  She  did  not  betray  any  sign  of  in- 
ward trouble,  but  she  looked  worse  and  more  careworn 
every  day.  Mr.  Ojogin — this  justice  is  due  him — • 
treated  her  with  great  consideration.  Mrs.  Ojogin  did 
nothing  but  groan  every  time  she  looked  at  her  darling 
daughter.  Only  one  person  Liza  did  not  keep  out  of  the 
way  of — although  she  did  not  encourage  him  too  much 
either — and  that  person  was  BizmenkofL  The  old 
Ojogins  treated  him  unkindly,  even  roughly  :  they  could 
not  excuse  him  for  having  acted  as  a  second  in  my  duel 
with  the  prince  ;  but  he  seemed  not  to  notice  their  ill- 


DIARY   OF    A    SUPERFLUOUS    if  AX.  123 

favor,  and  continued  his  visits.  Toward  me  he  behaved 
coldly,  and,  strange  to  say,  he  seemed  to  be  afraid  of  me. 

Such  a  state  of  affairs  continued  for  about  two  weeks. 
At  last  once,  after  a  sleepless  night,  I  resolved  to  ex- 
plain myself  to  Liza,  to  open  my  heart  to  her,  and  to 
tell  her  that,  regardless  of  all  that  had  passed,  notwith- 
standing all  the  slander  and  talk  of  the  world,  I  would 
consider  it  my  greatest  happiness  if  she  would  consider 
me  worthy  of  her  trust  and  confidence.  I  honestly 
thought  that  I  would  thus  show  an  example  of  great 
nobility,  and  that  she,  in  admiration  of  such  conduct  on 
my  part,  would  consent  to  my  request  without  hesita- 
tion. "At  any  rate^"  I  said  to  myself,  "  let  me  have 
an  explanation  with  her,  and  thus  make  an  end  of  my 
uncertain  position." 

In  the  rear  of  Mr.  Ojogin's  house  there  was  a  spa- 
cious garden,  with  a  very  neglected  grove  of  linden  trees 
at  the  other  end.  Liza  used  to  walk  around  in  that  gar- 
den the  whole  day.  Mr.  Ojogin  did  not  allow  anybody 
to  disturb  her.  "  Let  her  grief  ferment  out,"  he  used 
to  say.  If  she  was  not  in  the  house  when  she  was 
wanted,  it  was  only  necessary  to  ring  the  bell  on  the 
veranda,  and  Liza  was  sure  to  appear,  with  the  demure 
silence  and  though tfulness  on  her  lips  and  in  her  eyes  ; 
at  times  with  a  faded  leaf  or  broken  reed  in  her  hand. 
One  afternoon,  noticing  that  she  was  not  in  the  house,  1 
took  leave  of  the  old  folks,  left  the  house  by  the  front 
door,  stole  back  through  an  entrance  in  the  rear,  and 
went  into  the  garden  without  being  noticed. 

Without  much  thinking,  I  directed  my  steps  toward 
the  grove.  Before  me  on  the  path  stood  Liza.  My 
heart  was  palpitating  ;  I  stopped  to  draw  breath  before 
I  approached  her.  She  did  not  notice  me,  and  looked 
wistfully  into  the  distance.  Suddenly  she  turned 


12i  DIARY    OF   A   SUPERFLUOUS   MAN. 

around  and  began  to  listen.  Two  raps  were  heard  in 
the  distance  ;  Liza  clasped  her  hands  by  way  of  re- 
sponse. There  was  a  creak  of  the  gate  in  the  rear  of  the 
garden,  a  slight  noise  among  the  bushes  of  the  grove, 
and  Bizmenkoff  appeared  in  the  walk.  I  hid  myself 
behind  a  tree.  Liza  turned  silently  to  the  new-comer, 
he  took  her  by  the  arm,  and  they  went  along  the  path. 
I  followed  their  motions  with  astonishment.  They 
stopped,  looked  around,  and  entered  the  arbor. 

That  arbor  was  a  round  little  edifice,  with  a  small 
door  on  one  side,  and  a  very  small  window  on  the 
other.  In  the  middle  of  it  was  a  table  with  two  rustic 
benches  near  it,  at  some  distance  from  the  wall.  Every- 
thing in  the  arbor  was  dusty,  the  walls  looked  humid, 
and  there  was  even  some  grass  springing  up  between  the 
split  boards  of  the  table.  Perhaps,  once  or  twice  a 
year,  on  an  unusually  hot  summer  day,  the  family  used 
to  take  their  tea  in  that  bower,  and  it  was  in  a  very 
neglected  state.  The  door  did  not  close,  and  the  little 
window-sash  was  hanging  on  one  hinge,  and  looking  as 
sad  as  the  broken  wing  of  a  sick  bird.  I  stealthily  went 
up  to  the  arbor  and  looked  into  the  window.  Liza  sat 
on  a  bench,  with  her  head  reclined,  her  right  hand  lying 
carelessly  on  her  lap.  Bizmenkoff  sat  near  her,  holding 
her  left  hand  in  both  of  his,  and  looking  into  her  face 
with  emotion. 

11  How  do  you  feel  to-day,  Elizabetta  Kirrilovna  ?" 
he  asked  in  a  whisper. 

"  Just  the  same,"  she  answered  ;  "  neither  better  nor 
worse.  A  blank,  a  gaping  hollo wness,"  she  added,  rais- 
ing her  sad  eyes. 

Bizmenkoff  did  not  make  any  remark. 

"What  do  you  think,  Bizmenkoff?"  she  resumed, 
"  is  he  going  to  write  me  another  letter  ?" 


DIARY    OF   A    SUPERFLUOUS   MAX.  1"5 

"  I  do  not  think  he  will,  Elizabetta  Kirrilovna," '  was 
the  reply. 

A  pause. 

"  Indeed,  why  should  he  write  to  me  ?"  she  said, 
somewhat  warmly.  "  lie  told  me  everything  in  his 
first  letter.  1  cannot  become  his  wife,  but  I  was 
happy  ;  only  for  a  short  time,  it  is  true — but  I  was 
happy  ! 

Bizmenkoff  made  a  grimace. 

"Oh,"  she  continued,  warmly,  "if  you  knew  how 
I  hate  that  Chulkaturin  !  It  seems  to  me  1  always  see 
on  the  hands  of  that  man  his  blood"  (a  cold  chill  ran 
over  my  whole  frame).  "  However,"  she  continued, 
thoughtfully,  "  who  knows  ?  It  may  be  that,  if  not 
for  that  duel  !  Alas  !  when  I  saw  him  wounded  I  felt 
immediately  that  I  was  all  his  own." 

"  Chulkaturin  loves  you,"  remarked  Bizmenkoff. 

"  Now,  what  of  it  ?  Do  I  need  anybody's  love — ex- 
cept yours?"  she  added,  after  a  moment's  reflection. 
"  Yes,  my  friend,  I  could  not  exist  without  your  love. 
I  would  be  lost  without  you.  You  have  helped  me  to 
bear  the  most  fearful  moments." 

She  stopped.  Bizmenkoff  patted  her  hand  with  a 
kind  of  paternal  tenderness. 

"  What  can  be  done  ?  "What  can  be  done,  Elizabetta 
Kirrilovna  ?"  he  repeated  several  times  with  the  deepest 
sympathy. 

"Yes,  even  now,"  she  continued,  with  a  depressed 
voice,  "I  would,  perhaps,  die  without  you.  It  is  you 
alone  who  upholds  my  spirit.  And,  besides  that,  you 
remind  me  of  him.  You  have  known  everything,  have 
you  not  ?  Do  you  remember  how  well  he  looked  on 
that  day  ?  But  excuse  me,  it  must  be  hard  for  you  to 
hear  such  things." 


126  DIARY    OF    A    SUPERFLUOUS    MAN. 

u  Speak  on,  Elizabetta  Kirrilovna,  speak  on.  Gra- 
cious heaven,  what  makes  you  think  that  it  is  hard  for 
me?" 

She  squeezed  his  hand. 

"  You  are  very  kind,  Bizmenkoff,  you  are  as  good  as 
an  angel.  What  shall  I  do  ?  1  feel  that  I  shall  love 
him  all  my  life.  I  pardoned  him  :  nay,  1  am  thankful 
to  him,  I  bless  him.  May  God  bless  him  with  a  wife  to 
suit  him  and  make  him  happy."  Her  eyes  filled  with 
tears.  "  Only  let  him  not  forget  me,  let  him  think 
sometimes  of  his  poor,  forlorn  Liza.  Let  us  go  out  of 
this  place,' '  she  added,  after  a  pause. 

Bizmenkoff  kissed  her  hand. 

"I  know,"  she  resumed,  energetically,  "  that  every- 
body speaks  against  me  now  ;  they  are  all  throwing 
stones  after  me.  Let  them.  I  would  not  yet  change 
with  them.  No,  I  would  not  give  my  misfortune  for 
their  happiness.  He  loved  me,  £or  a  short  time,  it  is 
true,  but  he  did  love  me.  He  never  deceived  me.  He 
never  promised  to  marry  me,  and  I  never  expected  him  to 
do  it,  either.  It  was  only  my  poor  father  who  expected 
such  a  thing.  Neither  am  I  quite  unhappy  now.  There 
are  at  least  recollections  left  for  me,  no  matter  how 
frightful  the  consequences  in  prospect.  It  is  so  close 
here.  Here  I  have  seen  him  the  last  time.  Come  out 
with  me  in  the  fresh  air." 

They  arose  from  their  seats.  I  hid  myself  again  be- 
hind a  linden  tree.  They  left  the  bower,  and,  as  nearly 
as  I  could  judge  by  the  noise  of  the  leaves,  they  walked 
among  the  shrubs.  An  inexplicable  amazement  over- 
whelmed me  ;  I  stood  like  one  petrified  for  some  time. 
Suddenly  1  heard  them  come  again.  1  cautiously  peeped 
through  the  branches.  They  both  seemed  to  be  a  little 
agitated,  especially  Bizmenkoff,  who  was  weeping.  Liza 


DIARY    OF    A    SUPERFLUOUS    MAN.  127 

stopped,  looked  into  his  face,  and,  extending  her  hand  to 
him  said,  in  a  clear  voice  : 

"  1  agree  to  it,  Bizmenkoff.  I  would  never  accept 
your  offer  if  I  thought  that  you  desire  only  to  save  me, 
to  deliver  me  from  my  frightful  position.  "But  I  know 
you  love  me — you  knew  everything,  and  you  love  me 
still.  I  will  never  find  a  more  reliable  and  sincere  friend 
than  you.  I  shall  be  your  wife." 

Bizmenkoff  kissed  her  hand.  She  smiled  sadly,  and 
went  into  the  house.  Bizmenkoff  disappeared  in  the 
thicket,  and  I  went  home.  As  he  had  probably  told 
Liza  just  what  I  had  intended  to  tell  her,  and  as  she  had 
answered  him  that  which  I  wished  to  hear  from  her, 
there  was  nothing  more  for  me  to  do.  Two  weeks 
afterward  they  were  married.  The  Ojogins  were  glad 
to  find  any  suitor  for  her. 

Now,  for  mercy's  sake,  am  I  not  a  superfluous  man  ? 
Have  not  I  played  in  this  affair  the  part  of  a  superfluous 
man  ?  The  prince, — his  role  everybody  can  understand. 
Bizmenkoff's  part  can  also  be  easily  explained.  But  1  ! 
For  what  purpose  have  I  been  mixed  up  in  that  affair  ? 
"What  a  miserable  role  of  a  fifth  wheel  to  the  wagon 
have  I  played  here.  Oh,  I  feel  miserable  !  "Well,  as 
the  serfs  say,  once  and  once  again — one  day — another 
day,  and  I  will  not  feel  any  more,  either  bad  or  good. 

March  31. 

It  is  bad.  I  am  writing  now  in  my  bed.  The 
weather  has  changed  since  yesterday.  To-day  it  is  a 
perfect  summer  day  ;  it  is  very  hot.  The  air  is  preg- 
nant with  the  smell  of  humid  earth — a  strong,  offen- 
sive, almost  suffocating  smell.  It  seems  as  if  everything 
were  melting,  falling  asunder,  dissolving.  The  fog  rises 


128  DI.VRY    OF   A    SUPERFLUOUS   MAX. 

all  over.  The  sun,  so  to  say,  strikes  with  its  rays.  I 
feel  bad.  I  am  dissolving. 

I  had  intended  to  write  a  diary,  and  what  have  I  done 
instead  of  that  ?  I  have  narrated  one  event  of  my  life. 
I  have  become  so  garrulous,  memories  of  the  past  have 
awakened  within  me,  and  have  engaged  my  whole  mind. 
I  have  described  everything  so  circumstantially,  with 
such  careful  minuteness,  as  though  I  had  yet  an  age  to 
live.  Now  I  have  no  more  time  to  write.  Deatli  is 
coming.  I  hear  already  its  terrible  crescendo  :  "  Time 
is  up  !  Time  is  up  !"  Well,  and  what  is  the  evil  ? 
Would  there  be  any  difference  if  I  had  written  some- 
thing else  ?  All  the  worldly  distinctions  vanish  in  the 
sight  of  death.  I  feel  that  I  am  becoming  calmed,  sim- 
plified, and  clearer  than  I  was  before.  I  come  to  my 
mind  too  late. 

How  strange  !  I  am  becoming  calmed,  and  yet  I  feel 
affrighted  !  Yes,  I  feel  affrighted.  Half  inclined  over 
the  silent,  gaping  chasm,  I  am  trembling,  turning  away 
from  it,  and  contemplating  everything  around  with  eager 
attention.  Every  object  seems  doubly  dear  unto  me.  I 
cannot  look  enough  at  my  poor,  sad  domicile.  I  breathe 
a  farewell  to  each  spot  on  the  wall.  Enjoy  yourself  for 
the  last  time,  my  eyes,  that  are  soon  to  be  closed  !  Life 
is  becoming  extinguished.  It  is  silently  and  gradually 
disappearing  from  me,  just  like  the  coast  from  the 
mariner  on  a  floating  vessel.  The  old,  yellow  face  of 
my  nurse,  tied  up  with  a  dirty  handkerchief  ;  the  steam- 
ing tea-kettle  on  the  table  ;  the  geraniums  on  the  win- 
dow ;  my  poor  dog  Tresor  ;  the  pen  with  which  I  am  writ- 
ing ;  my  own  thin  arm, — I  see  3*011  all  !  Here  you  are 
all ;  here.  Shall  I,  perhaps  this  very  day,  desist  from 
seeing  you  forever?  It  is  very  difficult  for  a  living 
being  to  part  with  life  !  Why  do  you  fawn  around  me, 


DIARY    OF   A    SUPERFLUOUS   MAN.  129 

my  poor  dog  ?  Why  do  you  press  yourself  to  my  bed, 
nervously  wagging  your  bushy  tail,  your  sad,  kind  eyes 
fixed  on  me  ?  Are  you  sorry  for  me  ?  Do  you  feel  or 
know  that  your  master  is  soon  to  be  no  more  ?  Oh,  if 
I  could  only  pass  my  mind  on  all  my  memories,  as  I 
pass  my  eye  on  all  objects  around  me  !  I  know  that  all 
those  memories  are  cheerless  and  insignificant,  but  I 
have  no  others.  It  is  all  bleak.  "  A  gaping  hollow," 
as  Liza  said. 

0  my  God  !  I  am  dying  now  !     A  heart  which   is 
able  and  wishing  to  love,  will  soon  cease  beating  !     And 
shall  it  actually  thus  be  silenced  forever,  without  having 
tasted  a  single  drop  from  the  cup  of  happiness  ?     With- 
out ever  having  expanded  itself  at  the  sweet  breath  of 
love  ?     Alas,  it  is  impossible,  I  know  !     If  now,  at  least 
before  my  death  (why,  death  is  anyhow  a  solemn  thing  ; 
it  glorifies  everybody)  —if  now,  I  say,  some  sad,  dear,  and 
friendly  voice  would  sing  over  me  some  farewell  song, 
about  my  own  gloomy  fate,  I  might  yet  become  recon- 
ciled with  it  ;  but  to  die  in  such  ignominy,  so  foolishly  ! 

1  think  I  was  raving  just  now.     Farewell,  life  !    Fare- 
well,  my  garden  !     And    you,   my  linden  trees,  when 
summer  comes  do  not  fail  to  cover  yourself  with  f  erdure 
and  ilowers,  from  top  to  bottom.     Let  people  enjoy  rest- 
ing in  your  cool  shadow,  inhaling  your  fragrance,  and 
listening  to  the  rustling  of  your  leaves.     Farewell,  fare- 
well forever  !     Farewell,  Liza  ! 

I  wrote  down  the  last  two  words  and  almost  broke  out 
laughing.  It  is  a  stage  exclamation.  I  appear  to  myself 
as  if  I  were  composing  a  sentimental  story  or  writing  a 
desperate  message.  To-morrow  is  the  first  of  April. 
Shall  I  actually  die  to-morrow  ?  It  seems  so  disrespect- 
ful. It  concords  with  my  character,  though. 

How  excited  the  physician  was  to-day. 


130  DIAEY   OF   A    SUPERFLUOUS   MAN. 

April  1. 

It  is  finished  now  ;  life  is  finished.  I  will  actually 
die  to-day.  It  is  so  hot,  so  suffocating,  or,  it  may  be, 
my  lungs  refuse  to  breathe.  My  little  comedy  is  played 
out — the  curtain  is  dropping. 

After  dissolution  1  will  cease  to  be  superfluous. 

Oh,  how  bright  the  sun  is  !  His  mighty  rays  bear  the 
seal  of  eternity.  Farewell,  Terentievna  !  This  morn- 
ing she  was  weeping  as  she  sat  near  the  window.  May- 
be she  is  sorry  for  me,  or  she  thought,  perhaps,  of  the 
end  of  her  own  life,  which  is  not  far.  I  made  her 
promise  me  that  she  would  not  kill  Tresor. 

I  cannot  write  any  more.  I  shall  drop  my  pen.  Time  is 
up  !  Death  does  not  announce  itself  any  more  like  an  in- 
creasing storm,  or  like  a  carriage  rolling  up  the  street  in 
the  stillness  of  night  ;.it  is  here,  hovering  over  me  like  the 
»soft  breath  at  which  the  prophet's  hair  stood  up  like  nails. 

I  am  dying  now.     May  the  living  live, 

"  And  may  around  the  grave  I  enter 

Young  life  with  relish  play, 
And  nature,  grand  and  unconcerned, 
Eternal  charms  display." 

[EDITORIAL  NOTE. — Under  the  last  line  of  the  manu- 
script there  was  drawn  a  profile  of  a  head  with  a  long 
bunch  of  hair  and  an  extravagant  mustache.  The  eye 
of  that  caricature  was  drawn  en  face,  and  surrounded  by 
a  number  of  straight  lines  instead  of  the  brow.  At  the 
end  of  the  page  the  following  words  were  written  : 
"  Dis  bouck.  Bedd. 

And  not  likin'  the  same, 

Peter  Zubotoshin, 

MMMM 

My  dear  sir,  Peter  Zubotoshin, 

My  very  dear  sir." 


DIARY   OF   A    SUPERFLUOUS   MAX.  131 

But  as  the  handwriting  of  these  lines  was  different 
from  that  of  the  whole  manuscript,  the  editor  presumes 
to  draw  the  conclusion  that  those  lines  have  been  added 
by  another  person  after  the  author's  death.  We  also 
have  reliable  information  that  Mr.  Chulkaturin  actually 
died  on  the  evening  of  the  first  of  April,  18 —  in  his 
own  hamlet,  Ovechiy  Voda.] 


THE    END. 


TKANSLATOK'S    NOTE. 


Turgenieff  was  very  felicitous  in  the  invention  of  names  for  the 
principal  characters  and  objects  of  his  narratives.  In  the  two 
sketches  of  this  book  the  significance  of  the  following  names  are  of 
interest  : 

Ehvost  is  equivalent  to  "  Tail." 

Ovechiy  Voda,  sheep  water,  i.e.,  a  river  so  diminished  that  sheep 
can  wade  through  it. 

Chulkaturin,  from  Cliulok,  a  stocking;  the  formation  of  the 
word  implies  "a  large,  inflated  stocking." 

Ojoffin  (pronounced  Ozliogin),  burned  out  or  singed  ;   scorched. 

Zubotoshin,  one  who  whets  or  scales  his  teeth  ;  who  makes 
mien  to  bite  everything  ;  to  criticise. 


Life  of  Cromwell. 


OLIVER  CROMWELL,  his  Life,  Times,  Battlefields,  and 
Contemporaries ;  with  copious  Index.  By  PAXTON  HOOD,  author 
of  "  Christmas  Evans,"  "  Scottish  Characteristics,"  etc.  121110,  286 
pp.  Paper,  25  cents;  fine  cloth,  $1.00. 


New  York  Sun  t 

'•  Mr.  Hood's  biography  is  a  positive 
boon  to  the  mass  of  readers,  because  it 
presents  a  more  correct  view  of  the  great 
soldier  than  any  of  the  shorter  lives  pub- 
li.  hcd,  whether  we  compare  it  with 
Southey's,  Guizot's,  or  even  Forster's." 

New  York  Herald  t 

"The  book  is  one  of  deep  interest. 
The  style  is  good,  the  analysis  searching." 
Pacific  Churchman, San  Francisco: 

"  The  fairest  and  most  readable  of  the 
numerous  biographies  of  Cromwell." 
"Watchman,  London,  England: 

"  Mr.  Hood'sstyle  is  vivid,  picturesque, 
and  fascinating  in  no  small  degree.  He 
portrays  his  hero's  weakness  as  well  as  his 
strength." 


Edinburgh    (Scotland)  Daily  Re- 
view: 

"  The  book  deserves  to   take  a    place 
among  the  most  charming  and  informing 
biographical  literature." 
Christian  Union,  New  York: 

"A  valuable  biography  of  Cromwell,  told 
with  interest  in  every  part,  and  with  such 
condensation  and  skill  in  arrangement  that 
prominent  events  are  made  clear  to  all." 
Episcopal  Recorder,  Philadelphia: 

"  An  admirable  and  able  life  of  Oliver 
Cromwell,  of  which  wecan  unhesitatingly 
speak  words  of  praise." 
The  \Vorkman,  Pittsburgh,  Pa.: 

"  This  book  tells  the  story  of  Crom- 
well'.; life  in  a  captivating  way.  It  reads 
like  a  romance.  The  paper  and  printing 
are  very  attractive." 


Science  in  Short  Chapters. 

SCIENCE  IN  SHORT  CHAPTERS.  By  W.  MATTIEU 
WILLIAMS,  F.R.A.S.,  author  of  "  The  Fuel  of  the  Sun,"  «  Through 
Norway  with  a  Knapsack,"  etc.  A  leading  scientist  in  England.  I2mo, 
308  pp.  Paper,  25  cents;  fine  cloth,  $1.00. 


Academy,  London,  England  : 

"Mr.  Williams  has  presented  these 
scientific  subjects  to  the  popular  mind  with 
much  clearness  and  force.  It  may  be  read 
with  advantage  by  those  without  special 
scientific  training." 
Christian  Union,  New  York: 

"  Mr.  Williams  is  well-known  as  a  brill- 
iant, original,  and  independent  investigator 
of  scientific  phenomena." 

Christian  Advocate,  New  York: 

"  The  style  is  free  from  technicalities, 
and  the  book  will  prove  interesting  and 
instructive  to  those  who  have  not  time  to 
consult  larger  treatises." 


Journal  of  Education,  Boston : 

"  '  Science  in  Short  Chapters  *  supplies 
a  growing  want  among  a  large  class  of 
busy  people,  who  have  not  time  to  consult 
scientific  treatises.  Written  in  clear  and 
simple  style.  Very  interesting  and  in- 
structive." 
Graphic,  London : 

"  Clear,  simple,  and  profitable." 
Newarls(N.J .)  Daily  Advertiser: 

"  As  an  educator  this  book  is  worth  a 
year's  schooling,  and  it  will  go  where 
schools  of  a  high  grade  cannot  penetrate, 
Pall  Mall  Gazette,  London: 

"Original  and  of  scientific  value." 


The  American  Humorist. 

THE  AMERICAN  HUMORIST.  By  Rev.  H.  R.  HAWEIS,  M.A.,  a 
distinguished  clergyman  of  London,  author  of  "  Music  and  Morals," 
"Thoughts  for  the  Times,'' etc.  I2mo,  180  pp.  Paper,  15  cents;  fine 
cloth,  75  cents. 

Tlie  Continent,  Philadelphia: 
"  The  book  is  one  that  will  go  far  toward 

giving  a  true  impression  of  many  American 


characteristics.  The  price  is  astonishingly 
low  for  the  quality  of  paper  and  binding 
used."  . 

• 
Danbnry  (Conn.)  New*  t 

"  He  gives  a  brief  bibliographical  sketch 
of  each  writer  mentioned  in  ihe  book,  with 
copious  extracts  from  the  writings  of  each. 
An  exceedingly  entertaining  book.  Printed 
on  clear  paper,  contains  one  hundred  and 
eighty  pages  and  sells  for  15  cents— the 
price  of  a  good  cigar  I" 

Indianapoli*  (Ind.)  Sentinel* 

"He  presents,  in  fine  setting,  the  wit  and 
wisdom  of  Washington  Irving,  Oliver  W. 
Holmes,  James  R.  Lowell,  Artemus 
Ward,  Mark  Twain,  and  Bret  Harte,  and 
does  it  con  amare'' 


Occident,  San  Francisco  : 

"This   book  is  pleasant  reading,  with 
sparkle  enough  in  it — as  the  writer  is  him- 
self a  wit — to  cure  one  of  the  •  blues.*" 
Central  Baptist,  St.  Louis: 

"  A  perusal  of  this  volume  will  give  the 
reader  a  more  correct  idea  of  the  character 
discussed  than  he  would  probably  get 
from  reading  their  biographies.  The  book 
is  analytical,  penetrative,  terse,  incisive, 
and  candid.  Will  amply  repay  reading." 
Christian  Journal,  Toronto  : 

"  We«have  been  specially  amused  with 
the  chapter  on  poor  Artemus  Ward,  which 
we  read  on  a  railway  journey.  We  fear 
our  fellow-passengers  thought  something 
ailed  us,  for  laugh  we  did,  in  spite  of  all 
attempts  to  preserve  a  sedate  appear 
ance." 
School  Journal,  New  York  : 

"Terse  and  brief  as  the  soul  of  wit  itself." 


Lives  of  Illustrious  Shoemakers. 


LIVES  OF  ILLUSTRIOUS 

EDWARD  WINKS.    A  book  of  " 
25  cents;  *fine  cloth,  $I.OO. 
New  York  Herald  : 

"  The  sons  of  St.  Crispin  have  always 
been  noted  for  independence  of  thought  in 
politics  and  in  religion;  and  Mr.  Winks 
has  written  a  very  readable  account  of  the 
lives  of  the  more  famous  of  the  craft.  The 
book  is  quite  interesting." 

Boston  Globe: 

"A  valuable  book,  containing  much  in- 
teresting matter  and  an   encouragement 
to  sell-help." 
Central  Methodist,  Kentucky : 

"  This  is  a  choice  work — full  of  fact  and 
biography.  It  will  be  read  with  interest, 
mo;  e  especially  by  that  large  class  whose 


SHOEMAKERS.       By  WILLIAM 
Self  Help."     I2mo,  281  pp.     Paper, 

awl  and  hammer  provide  the  human  family 

with  soles  for  their  feet." 

'Western    Christian    Advocate, 

Cincinnati : 

"  When  we  tint  took  up  this  volume  we 
were  surprised  that  anybody  should  at- 
tempt to  make  a  book  with  precisely 
this  form  and  title.  But  as  we  read  its 
pages  we  were  far  more  surprised  to  find 
them  replete  with  interest  and  instruction. 
It  should  be  sold  by  the  scores  of  thou- 
sands." 
The  Western  Mail,  England  : 

"  Written  with  taste  and  tact,  in  a 
graceful,  iasy  scyie.  A  book  most  interest- 
ing to  youth." 


Flotsam  and  Jetsam. 

FLOTSAM  AND  JETSAM.  A  Yachtsman's  Experience  at  Sea 
and  Ashore.  By  THOMAS  GIBSON  BOWLES,  Master  Marine,  with 
copious  Index.  I2mo,  266  pp.  Paper,  25  cents;  fine  cloth,  $1.00. 

New  York  World  I 

"This  series  of  reflections,  some  phil- 
osophic, otheispractical,  and  many  burnt. r- 
« us,  make  a  cheerful  and  healthful  little 
volume,  made  the  more  valuable  by  its 


index." 

New  York  Herald  : 

"  It  is  a  clever  book,  full  of  quaint  con- 
ceits and  deep  meditation.  There  is 
plenty  of  entertaining  and  original  thought, 
and  'Flotsam  and  Jetsam'  is  indeed 
wonh  reading." 

Saturday  Review,  England: 

"  Amusing  and  readable.  *  *  *  Among 
the  successful  books  of  this  order  must  be 
c'assed  that  which  Mr.  Bowles  has  recently 
offered  to  the  public." 


Central    Methodist,    Cattlesburgh, 

Ky.: 

"This  is  a  romance  of  the  sea,  and  is  one 
of  the  most  readable  and  enjoyable  of 
books." 


Methodist    Recorder,    Pittsburgh, 

Pa.: 

"It  fairly  sparkles  with  fresh  and 
original  thoughts  which  cannot  fail  to  in- 
terest and  profit." 

Herald  and  Presbyter,  Cincinnati, 
Ohio: 

"  His  manner  of  telling  the  story  of  his 
varied  observations  and  experiences,  with 
his  reflections  accompanying,  is  so  easy 
and  familiar,  as  to  lend  his  page',  a  fascina- 
tion which  renders  it  almost  impossible  to 
lay  down  the  book  until  it  is  read  to  the 
end." 


The  Highways  of  Literature. 

THE  HIGHWAYS  OF  LITERATURE;  or,  WHAT  TO 
READ  AND  HOW  TO  READ.  By  DAVID  PRYDE,  M.A., 
LL.D  ,  author  of  "Great  Men  of  European  History,"  etc.  I2mo, 
168  pp.  Paper,  15  cents;  fine  cloth,  75  cents. 


Pacific  Churchman,  San  Francisco: 

"  The  best  answer  we  have  seen  to  the 
common  and  most  puzzling  question,  •  What 
shall  I  read  ?'     Scholarly  and  beautiful." 
Danbury  News  t 

"  Its  hints,  rules,  and  directions  for  read- 
ing are,  just  now,  what  thousands  of  people 
are  needing." 
New  York  Herald  t 

"  Mr.  Pryde,  the  author,  is  an  erudite 
Scotchman  who  has  taught  with  much  suc- 
cess in  Edinburgh.  His  hints  on  tie  best 
books  and  the  best  meihod  of  masteiing 
them  are  valuable,  and  likely  to  prove  of 
great  practical  use." 
Zlon's  Herald  * 

"An  adjMcably  suggestive  book  upon 


'  How  to  Read,'  and  '  What  to  Read.'    It 
is  an  excellent  volume  for  our  thoughtful 
young  people." 
Canadian  Baptist,  Toronto: 

"  The  introductory  chapter  on  the  selec- 
tion and  the  proper  employment  of  books 
is  worth  far  more  than  the  bock  costs. 
The  style  is  bnght  and  clear.  Eloquence, 
learning  and  common  sense  are  happily 
blended." 
New  York  Tablet  t 

"  This  is  a  most  useful  and  interesting 
work.  It  consists  of  papers  in  which  the 
author  offers  rule*  by  which  thereader  may 
discover  the  best  books,  and  be  enabled  to 
study  them  properl> ." 


Colin  Clout's  Calendar. 

COLIN  CLOUT'S  CALENDAR.  The  Record  of  a  Summer- 
April  to  October.  By  GRANT  ALLEN,  author  of  "Vignettes  of 
Nature,"  etc.  I2mo,  235  pp.  Paper,  25  cents;  fine  cloth,  $1.00. 


Leeds  Mercury,  England  : 

"  The  best  specimens  of  popularscier.tific 
expositions  that  we  have  everhad  the  good 
fortune  to  tall  in  with." 

Edinburgh  Scotsman,  Scotland  : 
"  There  can  be  no  doubt  oi  Grant  Allen's 

competence  as  a  writer  on  natural  history 

subjects." 

New  York  Herald: 
"  A  book  that  lovers  of  natural  history 

will  read  with  delight.      The    author  is 

such   a  worshiper  of  nature  that  he  gains 

•ur  sympathy  at  once." 

The  Academy,  London  : 
"The  point  in  which   Mr.  Grant  Allen 

is  beyond  rivalry  is  in   his  command  of 

language.    By  this  we  do  not  mean  only 

his  rich  vocabulary,  but  include  also  his 


arrangement  of  thought  and  his  manip- 
ulation of  sentences.  We  could  imagine 
few  better  lessons  to  a  pupil  of  English 
than  to  be  set  to  ana'yze  and  explain  the 
charm  of  Mr.  Grant  Allen's  style." 
Good  Literature,  New  York  : 

"  A  trustworthy  guide  in  natural  history, 
as     well    as    a    delightful,     entertaining 
writer." 
Ameiican  Refoimer,  New  York: 

"  This  book  consists  of  short  chapters 
upon  natural  history,  written  in  an  eas-  , 
fascinating  style,  giving  rare  and  valuable 
information." 
National  Baptist,  Phila.: 

"Just  the  book  to  have  at  hand  for  the 
pleasant  and  easy  study  of  natural  his- 
tory." 


Charlotte  Bronte. 

AN  HOUR  WITH  CHARLOTTE  BRONTfe;  or,  FLOWERS 
FROM  A  YORKSHIRE  MOOR  By  LAURA  C.  HOLLOWAY, 
author  of  "  Ladies  of  the  White  House,"  etc.  I2mo,  156  pp.  Paper, 
15  cents;  fine  cloth,  75  cents.  The  75  cent  edition  contains  a  fine  steel 
engraving  of  Charlotte  Bronte^ 

Daily  Advertiser,  Newark,  N.  J.: 
"There was  but  one  Charlotte  Bront6, 

as  there  was  but  one  WilliamShakespeare. 

To  wiite  her  life  acceptably,  one  must 

hare  made  it  the  study    of  years;    have 

studied  it  in  the  integrity  of  all  its  rela- 
tions, and  considered  it  from  the  broadest 


as  well  as  from  the  narrowest  aspect.    This 
is  what  Mrs.  Holloway  has  done." 

New  York  Herald: 

"  There  are,  at  times,  flights  of  eloquence 
that  rise  to  grandeur." 

Zion's  Herald,  Boston  : 

"  This  well-written  sketch,  with  selec- 
tions from  her  writings,  will  be  appreciated, 
and  give  a  clear  idea  of  the  remarkable 
intellectual  ability  of  this  gifted  but  heavily 
burdened  woman." 


American  Reformer,  New  York: 

"  The  brief  sketch  of  the  life  of  this  rare 
woman  is  so  sad  that  it  makes  a  somber 
picture.  But  there  is  such  a  sweet  spirit 
shining  out  in  every  place  that  it  tinges  the 
picture  with  a  radiance  almost  supernal. 
No  one  can  read  the  story  of  her  life  ex- 
cept to  be  charmed  by  the  character  of  the 
patient  sufferer.  This,  together  with  the 
extracts  from  her  letters,  prcse  and  poetical 
works,  makes  a  volume  of  rare  interest." 

Brooklyn  Daily  Eagle: 

"  Managed  with  the  rare  skill  we  might 
expect  at  the  handsof  a  fair-minded  woman 
dealing  with  the  traits  of  character  and 
the  actual  career  of  one  who,  amid  extra- 
ordinary circumstances  of  adversity,  plod- 
ded her  way  to  fame  within  the  span  of  a 
brief  lifetime." 


K 


George  Eliot's  Essays. 

THE  ESSAYS  OF  GEORGE  ELIOT,  Collected  and  Arranged, 
with  an  Introduction  on  her  "  Analysis  of  Motives.'1  By  NATHAN 
SHEPPARD,  author  of  "Shut  up  in  Paris,"  "  Readings  from  George 
Eliot,"  etc.  Paper,  25  cents;  fine  cloth,  $1.00. 

(  This  is  the  first  appearance  of  these  Essay;  in  book  form  in  England 
or  America.') 


'.Flie  Critic,  New  York: 

"Messrs.  Funk  &  Wagnalls  have  done 
U  real  service  to  George  Eliot's  innumer- 
able admirers  by  reprinting  in  their  popu- 
lar STANDARD  LIBRARY  the  great  novel- 
ist's occasional  contributions  to  the  period- 
ical press." 
New  York  Sun  t 

"In  the  case  of  George  Eliot  especially, 
•whose  reviews  were  anonymous,  and  who 
could  never  have  supposed  that  such 
fugitive  ventures  would  ever  be  widely 
associated  with  the  name  of  a  diffident 
and  obscure  young  woman,  we  gain  access 
in  her  early  essays,  as  in  no  other  of  her 
published  writings,  o  the  sanctuary  c  f  her 
deepest  convictions,  and  to  the  intellectual 
workshop  in  which  literary  methods  and 
processes  were  tested,  discarded,  or  ap- 
proved, and  literary  tools  fashioned  and 
manipulated  long  before  the  author  had 
discerned  the  large  purposes  to  which  they 
were  to  be  applied.  *  *  *  Looking  back 
over  the  whole  ground  covered  by  these 
admirable  papers,  we  are  at  no  loss  to  un- 
derstand why  Gecrge  Eliot  should  have 
made  it  a  :ule  to  read  no  criticisms  on  her 
own  stories.  She  had  nothing  to  learn 
from  critics.  She  was  justified  in  assum- 
ing that  not  one  of  those  who  took  upon 
themselves  to  appraise  her  achievements 
had  given  half  of  the  time,  or  a  tithe  cf 
the  intellect,  to  the  determination  cf  the 
right  aims  and  processes  of  the  English 
novel,  which,  as  these  reviews  atte  t,  she 
had  herself  expended  on  that  object  before 
venturing  upon  that  form  of  composition 
which  Fielding  termed  the  modern  epic." 
Examiner,  New  York  : 

"These  essays  ought  to  be  read  by  any 
one  who  would  understand  this  part  of 


George  Eliot's  career;  and,  indeed,  they       especially  interetting." 


furnish  the    key   to   all   her   subsequent 
literary  achievements." 
Evening  Transcript,  Boston . 

"  No  one  who  reads  these  essays  will  re- 
gret their  publication,  for  they  are  of 
striking  and  varied  ability,  and  add  much 
to  the  completeness  of  our  conception  of 
Marian  Evans'  character.  Critical  and 
artistic  power  seldom  go  hand-in-hand. 
The  most  brilliant  piece  cf  purely  literary 
work  is  the  one  on  Heine  and  German 
wit.  It  is  one  which  reaches  the  highest 
level  of  intellectual  criticism,  and  stands 
unsurpassed  by  anything  of  Arnold  or 
Lowell." 
Church  Union,  New  York: 

"  Nathan  Sheppard,  the  collector  of  the 
ten  essays  in  this  form,  has  written  a  high- 
ly laudatory  but  critical  introduction  to 
the  book,  on  her  'Analysis  of  Motives/ 
and,  alter  reading  it.it  seems  to  us  that 
every  one  who  would  read  her  worts 
profitably  and  truly  should  first  have  read 
it." 
2 ion's  Herald,  Boston  : 

"  As   remarkable   illustrations   of    her 
ma-.cu'ine  metaphysical  ability  as  is  evi- 
denced in  her  strongest  fictions." 
Episc    pal  Methodist,  Baltimore: 

"Everybody  of  culture  wants  to  read 
all  George  Eliot  wrote." 
Har'ford  Evening  Post: 

"  They  are  admirable  pieces  of  liter- 
ary workmanship,  but  they  are  much  rr.orf 
than  that.  *  *  *  These  essays  are  tri- 
umphs of  critical  analysis  combined  with 
epigrammatic  pungency,  subtle  ironyc 
and  a  wit  that  never  seems  strained." 
Christian  Advocate,  New  York : 

"  They  show  the  versatility  of  the  preat 
novelist.    One  on  Evangelical  Teaching  i» 


Sam  Hobart 


SAM   HOBART.      The    Locomotive    Engineer.      A    Workingman's 

Solution  of  the  Labor  Problem.    A  biography.    By  JUSTIN  D.  FULTON, 

D.D.,  author   of  "  Woman   as  God   made  Her.,"  etc.     I2mo,  255  pp. 

Paper,  25  cents;  fine  cloth,  JL.OO. 

Danbnry   News t 

"  It  is  doubtful  if  any  working  person 
can    read  this  book   and    not  becorr.e  a 
better  worker  and  a  better  man." 
Lnlheiau  Observer,  Philadelphia : 

"  Dr.  Fulton  has  done  a  good  work  in 
writing  this  story  of  a  railroad  man.     It  is 
a  genuine  record  of  heroic  fidelity  to  duty. 
Let  it  be  scattered  by  the  thousands." 
Church  Advocate,  Harrisburg  : 

"  If  every  workingman    and  employer 
would  follow  its  principles,  the  solution  of 


the   Labor    Question    would  be  near  at 

hand." 

Christian.      Secretary,     Hartford, 

Corn.: 
"  1  he  object  of  the  book  is  to  show  how 


happy  and  useful  a  workingman  may  be, 
if  content  in  his  work  and  willing  to  do 
well.  Written  in  a  very  interesting  way; 
and  while  it  will  probably  be  devoured 
by  railroad  me  ,  it  wi.l  afford  very  pleas- 
urable reading  to  all." 


liuardian,  Truro,  Nova  Scotia  : 

"The  author's  object  in  writing  it  was 
to  portray  the  possibilities  of  happiness  and 
usefulness  within  the  i  each  of  a  working- 
man  content  to  fill  the  sphere  cf  usefulness 
awarded  him,  and  willing  to  lend  a  help- 
ing hand  to  do  work  for  God  and  hu- 
mani  y.  It  is  just  such  a  book  as  we 
would  like  to  see  in  the  hands  of  railroad 
men." 


Successful  Men. 


SUCCESSFUL  MEN  OF  TO-DAY  AND  WHAT  THEY 
SAY  OF  SUCCESS.  Based  on  facts  and  opinions  gathered  from 
Five  Hundred  Prominent  Men.  By  Rev.  WILBUR  F.  CRAFTS,  A.M., 
author  of  "Heroes  and  Holidays,"  etc.  A  book  of  Self  Help.  12010, 
276  pp.  Paper,  25  cents;  fine  cloth,  $1.00. 

The  Critic,  New  York:  |  more  incentives  to  honorable  living  so 

"This  is  an  excellent  book  of  the  kind,  delightfully  and  impressively  told  than  in 

and  contains  much  that  is  valuable.     It  is 

very  pleasant  reading,  for  it  abounds  in 

good  anecdotes, and  c.ntains  many  hints 

both  original  and  practicable.    It  gives  an 

excellent  definition  of  success." 


Christian  1'iiion,  New  York  : 

"  We  cordially  commend  this  book  to 
young  men." 

Brooklyn  [N.  Y.)  Eagle  : 

"  A  wonderfully  instructive  book." 

Inter-Ocean,  Chicago. : 

•'  The  style  is  terse,  vigorous,  and  pleas- 
ant, abounding  in  sententious  maxims, 
wh:ch  are  well  calculated  to  impre-s 
young  readers.  Nowhere  have  we  found 


this  volume.  If  it  could  be  stuffed  into 
every  boy's  satchel  as  he  journeys  from 
home  it  would  be  well." 


Christian  Secretary,  Hartford, Ct.: 
"  Full  of  sound,  wise,  and  practical 
advice  to  all  young  men  rf  all  occupation*. 
Written  with  an  earnest  and  noble  pur- 
pose to  help  and  encourage  young  men." 

Young  Churchman,  Milwaukee: 

"  Full  of  good  maxims  and  sound  advice 
for  the  young." 

Lutheran  Observer,  Philadelphia : 
"  Clear,  forcible,  pungent — nearly  every 
page  spar 'Jes  with  a  fresh  illustration  or  a 
pertinent  story." 


NATURE  STUDIES.  By  RICHARD  A.  PROCTOR,  GRANT  ALLEN, 
ANDREW  WILSON,  THOMAS  FOSTER,  and  EDWARD  CLODD.  With 
copious  Index.  A  sterling  volume.  I2mo,  264  pp.  Paper,  25  cents; 
fine  cloth,  $1.00. 

The  Critic,  New  York  : 
"  Were    we   to   act  upon  the  principle 

that  good  wine  needs  no  brush,  we  should 

certainly  forbear   praising    the     'potable 

gold'    presented    in     'Nature    Studies.' 


The  twenty-four  essays  are  at  once  agree- 
able reading  and  intellectually  stimula- 
tive." 

Danbury  (Conn.)  News: 

"  Although  by  a  scientist,  the  book  is 
not  a  teacher  of  skepticisms.  Procter  be- 
lieves fally  in  the  existence  of  an  all-creat- 
ing, aK-ru'ing  God.  But  his  views  of  the 
Greater  are  greater  than  ours,  because  his 
knowledge  of  the  vastness  of  time,  of 
space,  and  of  creation,  are  greater  than 
ours.  The  book  is  intensely  interesting,  as 
well  as  thoroughly  instructive." 


Methodist  Recorder,  Pittsburg  : 

"These  eminent  naturalists  give  us  in 
this  volume  many  articles  as  interesting 
and  as  exciting  as  a  story  in  human  life, 
and  there  is  not  one  that  will  disappoint 
the  most  dull  reader.-  The  theories  ad- 
vanced in  some  t  f  the  articles  will  proba- 
bly not  be  accepted,  but  wi'.l  be  cf  interest 
to  show  the  ligat  in  which  thoe  theories 
are  held  by  their  advocates." 

Presbyterian    Witness,    Halifax. 

N.  S. : 

A  Ijrge  amount  of  valuable  reading 
from  five  of  the  greatest  scientists  of  the 
day." 
S.  S.  Journal,  New  York: 

"  They  are  for  the  most  part  free  from 
technical  language,  though  discussing  pro- 
found themes." 


India:  What  Can  it  Teach  Us? 

INDIA:  WHAT  CAN  IT  TEACH  US  ?  A  course  of  Lectures 
delivered  before  the  University  of  Cambridge.  By  F.  MAX  MULLER, 
K.M.  With  an  Introduction  and  Notes  by  Prof.  Alexander  Wilder, 
M.D.;  also  by  the  American  Publishers.  I2mo,  288  pp.  Paper,  25 
cents;  fine  cloth,  £1.00. 


New  York  Times  : 

'•  Max  Miiller's  enthusiasm  in  the  cause 
of  the  Indian,  past  and  present,  makes  him 
worthy  of  the  most  respectful  attention. 
*  *  *  When  one  thinks  what  India  has 
taught  the  last  century,  and  especially  the 
third  quarter  of  tl-e  present  century,  it  is 
remarkable  that  it  should  be  necessary  to 
convince  people  that  there  is  a  great  deal 
worth  learning  from  India." 
Brooklyn  (S.  Y.)  Union  I 

"The  author  discusses  in  a  vivid  and 
charming  manner  the  truthful  chaiacter  of 
the  Hindus,  the  human  interest  cf  Sanscrit 
literature,  the  lessons  of  the  Vedas  and  the 
Vedic  deities,  revealing  the  v^st  richness 


of  his  subject,  which  under  his  skillful 
treatment  becomes  more  and  more  attract- 
ive as  it  is  attentively  examined  by  the 
reader." 
New  York  World  I 

"At  this  time,  when  the  issue  of  Oriental 
tradition  and  literature  is  being  so  success- 
fully worked  by  poets  and  novelists,  these 
studies  by  an  expert  in  the  life  and  lore 
of  India  cannot  fail  to  interest  and  instruct 
a  large  class  of  readers." 
Journal  of  Commerce,  New  York: 

"  The  author,  the  learned  Miiller,  shows 
that  India  can  teach  us  a  great  deal  that 
is  well  worth  learning.  His  investigation* 
are  profound  and  interesting. '* 


A  Winter  in  India. 

A  WINTER  IN  INDIA.  By  Rt.  Hon.  W.  E.  BAXTER,  M.P.  A 
fascinating  story  of  a  journey  through  India.  With  Index  and  Notes 
by  the  American  Publishers,  with  Map.  i2mo,  154  pp.  Paper,  15 
cents;  fine  cloth,  75  cents. 

intelligent  and  late  account  of  India,  its 
railways,  buildings,  people,  civilization 
and  prospects  under  British  rule,  will  find 
this  a  most  agreeable  means  of  doing  so." 
Z  ion's  Herald,  Boston  : 

"  Gives  us  fresh  and  vivid  views  of  this 
mighty  portion  of  the  English  Empire 
and  its  probable  future,  and  will  closely 
hold  the  reader's  attention  from  beginning 
to  the  end." 
Good  Literature,  New  York: 

"  Mr.  Baxter  is  perhaps  better  known  in 
this  country  as  a  writer  of  several  bright 
and  chatty  sketches  than  as  a  member  of 
Parliament.  1  his  book  will  be  read  with 
enjoyment  by  all  who  desire  to  possess  the 
latest  and  most  imprejudiced  information 
about  this  country." 


New  York  World  : 

"There  is  not  one  page  of  dry  reading 
in  the  work,  and  the  descriptions  of  the 
country,  its  inhabitants  and  resources,  are 
so  vividly  drawn  as  to  give  the  reader  an 
excellent  mental  photograph." 


Christian  Advocate  t 

"A  piece  of  pleasant  writing  giving  a 
glimmer  of  that  wonderful  country  during 
a  winter's  stay. " 

Christian     Statesman,    Philadel- 
phia: 

"His  testimony  to  the  labors  of  Chris- 
tian missionaries  in  that  fjr  away  land  is 
very  valuable  and  gratifying." 
Toronto  (Canada)  Mail : 

"  Any  one  who  wishes  to  get  a  bright. 


SCOTTISH  CHARACTERISTICS.  By  PAXTON  HOOD,  author 
of  "Oliver  Cromwell,"  "  Christmas  Evans,"  etc.  I2mo,  315  pp. 
Paper,  25  cents;  fine  cloth,  $1.00. 

Hew  York  Herald  : 

"Paxton  Hood  is  one  of  the  very  best  of 
our  living  bookmakers,  *  *  *  and  hjs  the 
faculty  of  putting  things  in  an  attractive 
form.  He  has  here  given  us  a  work  which 
is  not  on!y  readable  but  instructive  and 
amusing." 
New  York  Examiner: 

"A  large    fund  of  anecdotes    utilized 
with  much  literary  art.    A  vastly  enter- 
taining book." 
The  Critic,  New  York  : 

"  Many  of  the  anecdotes  are  excellent, 
and  the  book  is  a  pleasant  illustration  of 
thingspeculiar  to  Scotland  and  the  Scotch  " 
Congregationalist,  Boston: 

"  The  stories  are  strung  on  a  thread  of 


reflection  and  comment  which  is  worthy 
of  perusal." 

Interior,  Chicago : 

One  of  the  liveliest  and  most  enjoyable 
books  of  the  season  for  its  sarcasm  and 
other  characteristics  of  the  genuine  Scot  " 

Boston  Globe : 

"  Scottish  character  and  humor  are  esti- 
mated  in  a  faithful   and  generous  spirit, 
and  shown    with    racy  descriptions   and 
anecdotes." 
Montreal  Gazette  > 

"  Whoever  would  see  Scotland  and  its 
people  as  they  really  ar*,  whether  he  be 
Scotch  himself  or  not,  should  read  these 
characteristics." 


Historical  and  Other  Sketches. 

HISTORICAL  AND  OTHER  SKETCHES.  By  JAMES  ANTHONY 
FROUDE.  Edited  with  an  Introduction  by  David  H.  Wheeler,  LL.D. 
I2mo,  288  pp.  Paper,  25  cents;  fine  cloth,  Si.oo. 


Observer,  New  York : 

"  Presents  the  varied  characteristics  of 
Mr.  Froude's  style,  and  enables  the  reader 
to  form  a  tolerably  comprehensive  idea 
of  his  writings  without  going  through  the 
many  volumes  in  which  they  are  con- 
tained." 

Northern   Christian  Advocate. 

Syracuse,  N.  V.  : 

"  The  part  that  every  one  will  select  first 
is  the  brief  account  of  Mrs.  Carlyle's  be- 
trothal, and  his  estimate  of  the  causes 
which  produced  in  her  that  discontent 
now  known  as  widely  as  her  name." 

The  Continent,  Philadelphia: 

"The  selections  are  partly  literary, 
partly  historical,  but  all  in  the  best  manner 
of  the  author,  and  the  issue  is  o  ic  of  the 
most  attractive  of  the  s  .ries." 


J.  A.  Froude: 

The  following  letter  explains  itself: 

THE  MOLT,  SALCOMBE,      1 

KlNGSBRIDGE,  DEVONSHIRE,  I 

August  22,  1883.     ) 

REV.  DAVID  H.  WHEELER,  D.  D.,  Alle- 
gheny College,  Meadville,  Pa. 

DEAR  SIR:  Your  volume  has  reached 
me.  For  your  kind  and  charitable  ac- 
count of  my  individual  self,  I  can  only 
thank  you.  You  pass  over  my  innumer- 
able faults,  and  you  graciously  make  the 
most  of  such  merits  as  you  suppose  your- 
self to  find.  I  thank  you  particularly  for 
what  you  say  of  the  publication  of  Carlyle's 
memoirs.  When  I  complete  my  account 
of  him  I  can  lx>k  confidently  to  a  verdict 
in  my  favor;  but.  meanwhile,  I  have  a  bad 
time 'of  it.  But  I  will  not  enter  fuitheron 
a  subject  which  you  show  you  fully  under- 
stand. And  now  accept  my  assurance  ol  the 
gratification  with  which  I  have  seen  the 
imnee  of  myself  which  your  mirror  reflects, 
and  believe  me,  yours  faithfully. 


Jewish  Artisan  Life. 

JEWISH  ARTISAN  LIFE  IN  THE  TIME  OF  JESUS. 
By  Prof.  FRANZ  DELITZSCH.  Translated  from  the  latest  revised 
German  Edition,  by  Bernhard  Pick,  Ph.  D.  I2mo.  Paper,  1$  cents; 
fine  cloth,  75  cents. 


New  York  Tribune: 

"  In  this  volume  the  distinguished 
German  scholar  describes  the  trades  and 
the  home  life  of  the  Jews,  going  back  to 
the  oldest  sources  of  Rabbinical  litera- 
ture and  history  for  his  facts,  and  blend- 
ing all  t»to  a  picturesque  and  instructive 
whole.  The  work  has  been  acd  will  be 
of  real  value,  especially  to  Biblical 
students." 
Congregationalist,  Boston  : 

"  Prof.  Delitsch  has  depicted  with  great 
distinctness  popular  life  and  manners  in 
the  time  of  Christ." 
School  Journal,  New  York  . 

"Pruf.  Delitsch  has  a  world-wide  repu- 


tation as  one  of  ihe  ablest  scholars  in 
Biblical  science.  He  sketches  the  public, 
the  business  and  the  home  life  of  the  Jews 
in  the  time  of  Christ  in  such  a  ch.-rming 
style  that  one  is  fascinated  throughout." 
S.  S.  Times,  Philadelphia: 

"An  excellent  portraiture  of  the  state  of 
Jewish  society  in  the  time  of  Chrisi,  written 
as  if  an  eye-witness  by  one  whose  scholar- 
ship is  unchallenged." 
Zion's  Herald,  Boston  : 

"  An  original  and  valuable  work,  throw- 
ing much  light  upon  the  New  Testament 
life  of  Christ,  and  full  ol  curious  informa- 
tion to  the  modern  reader.  It  is  tl-e  result 
of  thorough  scholarship." 


Scientific  Sophisms. 

SCIENTIFIC  SOPHISMS.  A  Review  of  Current  Theories  con- 
cerning  Atoms,  Apes,  and  Men.  By  SAMUEL  WAINWRIGHT,  D.D., 
author  of  "  Christian  Certainty,"  "  The  Modern  Avernus,"  etc.  I2mo, 
302  pp.  Paper,  25  cents;  fine  cloth,  $1.00. 


The  Standard,  Chicago  : 

"  The  sophistical  reasoning  by  which  it 
has  been  attempted  to  give  some  scientific 
credibility  to  the  doctrines  of  Darwin  and 
his  school  is  exposed  in  a  trenchant  and 
telling  way.  He  lays  his  hand  at  once 
upon  the  fallacy  and  drags  it  imo  the- 
light.  He  fortifies  his  positions  with  tes- 
timony drawn  as  well  from  the  evolution- 
ist himself  as  from  his  opponents.  The 
argument  is  thus  presented  in  a  form  to  be 
appreciated  by  any  reader,  and  is  adapted 
to  opening  the  eyes  of  those  who  take  it 
for  granted  that  doctrines  associated  with 
great  names  and  elaborated  in  famous 
books  must  of  course  be  true." 


Independent,  England  : 

"  For  the  hard-working  student  who  can 
enjoy  a  fine  bit  of  intellectual  sword-play, 
it  is  the  very  book." 


Detroit  (Mich.)  Free  Press: 

"The  author  takes  up  some  strong  po- 
sitions, and  deals  some  hard  knocks.  It 
will  be  worthy  of  attentive  perusal." 

Northern  Christian  Advocate, 

Syracuse,  N.  Y.: 

"  Dr.  Wainwright  assails  the  evolution- 
ists without  mercy  or  trembling.  He  is 
bold,  caustic,  and  confident  that  what  he 
says  is  the  truth.  Evolution  is  i.self  so 
bold  a  theory  that  boldness  is  justified  on 
the  part  of  the  critic.  The  author  is  a 
thorough  stalwart,  and  his  work  carries  the 
weight  of  scholarly  authority." 
Journal  of  Education,  Boston  I 

"  He  has  ably  shown  the  fallacies  of 
Darwin,  Huxley,  Tyndall,  and  others,  on 
the  subject  of  evolution,  transmutation, 
etc.  Although  dealing  with  difficult  scien- 
tific problems,  the  book  is  written  in  a 
clear  and  simple  style,  and  is  well  calcu- 
lated to  remove  skeptical  doubts." 


Illustrations  and  Meditations. 

ILLUSTRATIONS  AND  MEDITATIONS;  or,  Flowers  from 
a  Puritan's  Garden.  Figures  and  Illustrations  from  the  writings 
of  THOMAS  MANTON,  collected,  arranged  and  commented  upon  by 
Rev.  CHARLES  H.  SPURGEON.  I2mo,  283  pp.  Paper,  25  cents;  fine 
cloth,  $i.oo. 

Christian  Chronicle,  London: 

"  Extracting  all  the  rare  and  excellent 
illustrations  used  by  that  staunch  Puritan, 
Mr.  Spurgeon  has  collected  them  into  a 
volume.  He  says  he  has  cleared  the  house 
of  tlie  Puritan  of  all  its  pictures.  The  re- 


The  Congregational  1st,  Boston: 

"  It  is  rich  and  suggestive." 
Inter-Ocean,  Chicago : 

"  The  terse  sentences  and  pithy  phrases 
of  the  old  writer,  Thomas  Manton,  have 
a  freshness  about  them  that  is  morally  in- 
vigorating. Mr.  Spurgeon  has  added  to 
each  saying,  remarks  of  his  own,  giving 
much  additional  interest  to  the  volume." 
Lutheran  Observer,  Philadelphia: 

"The  quotations  from   Manton  in  this 
volume  are  quite  rich  and  helpful." 


suit  is  a  volume  of  quaint  and  rare  value. 
It  was  indeed  kind  of  Mr.  Spurgeon  to 
pick  all  the  flowers  from  Mr.  Manton's 
garden,  and  present  us  with  such  a 
bouquet." 


PUBLICATIONS  OF  FUNK  <t  WAGNALLS,  NEW  YORK. 

*»  Tile  most  important  and  practical  work  of  the   ace  on  tne 
Psalms."— SCHAFF. 

SIX  VOLUXKS  NOW  RKADV. 

-SPURCEON'S  GREAT  LIFE  WORK  - 

THE   TREASURY   OF    DAVID  I 

To  be  published  in  seven  octavo  volumes  of  about  470  pages  each, 
uniformly  bound,  and  making  a  library  of  3,300  pages, 

in  handy  form  for  reading  and  reference. 

It  is  published  simultaneously  with,  and  contains  the  exact  matter  of, 
the  English  Edition,  which  has  solJ  at  $4.00  per  volume 
in  this  country — $28.00  for  the  work  when  com- 
pleted. Our  edition  is  in  every  way  pref- 
erable,   and    is    furnished    at 

ONE-HA1F  THE  PEICE  OP 

THE  ENGLISH 

EDITION. 

Price,  Per  Vol.  $2. CO. 

"Messrs.  Funk  6^  Wagnalls  have  entered  into  an  arrangement  with 
9te  to  refrint  THE  TREASUR  Y  OF  DA  VID  in  the  United  States.  2 
have  every  confidence  in  them  that  they  will  issue  it  correctly  and  worthily. 
It  has  been  the  great  literary  work  of  my  life,  and  I  trust  it  will  be  as 
kindly  received  in  America  as  in  England.  I  wish  for  Messrs.  Funk  suc- 
eess  in  a  venture  which  must  involve  a  great  risk  and  much  outlay. 

"£>ef.  8,  i88f.  C.  ff.  SPURGE  ON." 

Volumes  I.,  II.,  TTT.,  IV.,  V.  and  VL  are  now  ready;  volume 
VII.,  which  completes  the  great  work,  is  now  under  the  hand  of  the 
author.  Subscribers  can  consult  their  convenience  by  ordering  all 
the  volumes  issued,  or  one  volume  at  a  time,  at  stated  intervals,  until 
the  set  is  completed  by  the  delivery  of  Volume  VJLL 

From  the  Lrge  number  of  hearty  commendations  of  this  import- 
ant work,  we  give  the  following  to  indicate  the  value  set  upon  the 
game  by 

EMINENT  THEOLOGIANS  AND  SCHOLARS. 


Philip  Schaff,  •  -.D.,the  Eminent 
Commentator  and  the  President  of  the 
American  Bible  Revision  Committee, 
•ays:  "  The  most  important  and  prac- 


tical -work  of  the  age  on  the  Psalter  ie 
'  The  Treasury  of  David.'  by  Charles  H 
Spurgeon.  It  is  full  of  the  force  and 
genius  of  this  celebrated  preacher,  and 


(OVER.) 


above  workt  wtll  be  sent  b)  mail,  pott  aft  faid,  on  receipt  tf tkt  frit*. 


PUBLICATIONS  OF  FUNK*  WAGNALLS,  NEW  YORK. 


rich  In  selections  from  the  entire  range 
ef  literature." 

Wriiam     M.     Taylor,    D.D., 

New  York  says:  '  In  the  exposition  of 
the  heart  'THE  TKEASUBJ-  OF  DAVID*  is 
mi  generis,  rich  in  experience  and  pre- 
eminently devotional.  The  exposition 
is  aiwa\  s  fresh.  To  the  preacher  it  is  ' 
especially  suggestive." 

John  Hall,  D.O.,  New  IVik, 
says:  "'There  are  two  questions  that 
must  interest  every  expositor  of  tha 
Divine  Word.  What  does  a  particular 
passage  mean,  and  to  what  use  is  it  to 
be  applied  in  public  teaching?  In  the 
department  of  the  Utter  Mr.  Spur- 
geon's  great  work  on  the  Psalms  is 
without  an  equal.  Eminently  practical 
in  his  own  teaching,  he  has  collected  in 
these  volumes  the  best  thoughts  of  the 
best  minds  on  the  Psalter,  and  es:  e- 
cially  of  that  great  body.loosely  grouped 
together  as  the  Puritan  divines.  I  am 
heartily  glad  that  by  arrangements, 
satisfactory  to  all  concerned, tl  e  Messrs. 
Funk  &  Wa_>  nails  are  to  bring  iuisgr  at 
work  within  tha  reach  ol  ministers 
everywhere,  as  the  English  edition  is 
necessarily  expensive.  I  wish  the 
highest  success  to  the  enterprise." 

William  Ormlston,  !>.*>.,  New 

York,  says:  "  I  consider  •  THE  TREASURY 
OF  DAVID'  a  work  of  surpassing  excel- 
lence.of  inestimable  value  to  every  stu- 
dent of  the  '  salter.  It  will  prove  a 
standard  work  on  the  Psalms  lor  all 
time.  The  instructive  introductions, 
the  racy  ori  ,inal  expositions,  the 
numeious  q  aint  illustrations  gath- 
ered ir  jm  wide  and  varied  fields,  and 
the  suggestive  sormonic  hin  s,  render 
the  volumes  invaluable  to  all  preachers, 
and  indispensable  to  every  minister's 
library.  All  who  delight  in  reading  the 
Psal  a  s — and  what  Christian  does  not? 
— will  prize  this  work.  It  is  a  rich 
cycl  >p«dia  of  the  literature  of  tiiese 
ancient  odes." 

Theo.  li.  Cnyler,  D.D..  Brook- 
lyn, says:  "  I  have  usei  Mr.  Spurgeon's 
•  THB  TKEASUBY  OF  DAVID'  for  three 
years,  and  found  it  worthy  of  its  name. 
Whoso  goethin  there  will  find  'rich 
spoils.'  At  both  my  visits  to  Mr.  8  he 
spoke  with  much  enthusiasm  of  this 
undertaking  as  one  of  his  favor,  te 
methods  of  enriching  himself  and 
others." 

Jesie  B.  T  liomas,  D.D  ,  Brook, 
lyn,  says:  "  I  have  the  highest  concep- 


tion of  the  sterling  worth  of  all  Mr. 
Spurgeon's  publications,  and  I  incline 
to  regard  his  TBEABUBY  OF  DAVID'  a* 
having  received  more  of  his  loving 
labor  than  any  other.  I  regard  its 
publication  at  a  lower  price  as  a  treat 
service  to  American  Bible  btudents." 

New   York  Observer  says;  ••  A 

nob  compendium  of  suggestive  com- 
ment upon  the  richest  devotional 
poetry  ever  given  to  mankind. ' 

Tli-»  Congregational!**,  Bos- 
ton, says:  "  As  a  devout  and  spiritually 
Sugg-stive  work,  it  is  meeting  with 
the  warmest  approval  and  receiving 
the  hearty  commendation  of  the  most 
distinguished  divines." 

United  Presbyterian,  Pitts- 
burg,  Pa  ,  says:  "  It  is  unapproached 
as  a  commentary  on  the  Psalms.  It  is 
of  equal  value  i  o  ministers  and  lay- 
men— a  quality  that  works  of  the  kind 
rarely  possess." 

North  American,  Philadelphia, 
Pa.:  says:  "\\ill  find  a  place  in  the 
library  of  every  minister  who  knows 
how  to  appreciate  a  good  thing." 

New  York  Independent  Fays: 
"  He  has  ransacked  evangelical  litera- 
ture.and  comes  forth,  like  Jessica  from 
her  father's  houss,  'gilded  with 
ducats'  and  rich  plunder  in  the  shape 
of  good  and  helptul  quotations.' 

New  York  Tribnne  says:  "For 
the  great  majority  of  readers  who  seek 
in  the  Psalms  those  pra  tical  lessons 
in  which  they  are  so  rich,  and  those 
wonderful  interpretations  of  heart-life 
and  expression  of  emotion  in  which 
they  anticipate  ihe  New  Testament,  we 
know  of  no  book  like  this,  nor  as  good. 
It  is  literally  a  •  Treasury.'  " 

P.  S.  Times  sa  s:  "Mr.  Fpurgeon's 
style  is  simple,  direct  and  perspicuous, 
oiten  reminding  one  of  the  matchless 
prose  of  Bunyan." 

West*  rn Christian  Advo-af  e, 
Cincinnati,  O.,  says:  "The  price  is  ex- 
tremely moderate  ior  so  Jarge  and  im- 
portant a  work.  *  *  *  We  have  ex- 
amined this  volume  with  care,  and  we 
are  greatly  pleased  with  the  plan  of 
execution." 

Christian  Herald  says:  "  Con- 
tains more  felicitous  illustrations, 
more  valuable  sermonic  hints,  than  can 
be  found  in  all  other  works  on  the 
same  book  put  together." 


The  above  works  vnll  be  sent  by  mail,  postage  paid,  OH    receipt   of  tke  frtct. 


